


Seraphim Beneath The Christmas Tree

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Ron Weasley, Cross-Generation Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, HP: EWE, Hermione Granger Bashing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 143,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8594218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: In a quiet, snowy village in the middle of nowhere, two people meet in shock after eight years...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at adultfanfiction.net, written in 2009. Very rough, not beta'd - forgive my younger self!
> 
> This is one of my favourites of all the fics I've ever written. It has a special place in my heart. And no, I didn't enjoy writing Hermione like this.

_I swear to fucking Merlin this is the temperature where appendages start dropping off._

Ron glowered angrily at the tiny memorial which made up the centre of the little village he was waiting in. To be placed on stake out on Christmas Eve was not the nicest of presents he could have been given for the festive season. Especially since there was absolutely nothing he could find to warrant the unexplained magic in the very muggle area. There were no registered witches or wizards in the area but the Ministry sensors had picked _something_ up in the freezing little village in Scotland. From his concealed position Ron had been sitting in snow fall for three hours after moving on from the café which had closed.

 

Of course, he had the exemplary heating charms but they were beginning to fail him as boredom set in. He looked at his watch, counting down the minutes to nine o’ clock when he could officially give up on his fruitless activity and go home to his empty bed and very understanding rats.

 

_Actually, probably not so understanding, they’re probably wondering where the fuck dinner is. Arse and shit and fuck and wank and I hate my fucking job, hate, hate, hate, HAAAAATE._

Feeling slightly better for his mental rant, Ron sent a tempered kick at some of the snow which had built up around his shoe and heaved a massive sigh. He really did hate his job. But quitting it now, when everything else in his life was in uproar, didn’t seem a smart move.

 

The minute hand ticked closer to nine and he straightened his spine eagerly, ready to leap off the bench and run far, far away from the sub-zero village.

 

_Why the fuck am I so eager to go home? What’s waiting for me, other than Peaches and Penelope… who are very lovely but sadly not human?_

 

Ron knew he was never going to live down buying a pair of female rats and then giving them alliterative, girly names. He couldn’t help it, though; he’d wanted another rat ever since Scabbers had proved to be a rat masquerading as a man. They’d been tolerated by Hermione and it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to find Ron flopped on the couch with his rats running amok under his jumper, chewing said couch, and his jumper, and if they felt chancy, his nipples.

 

And now it all seemed so bleak and they were the only beings who didn’t seem to care that his love-life had had a torch set to it. They loved him just the same, and seemed happier to be in a flat just with him. Ron knew part of the reason the flat still felt so odd was that it was half-empty, he had just let the furniture go because he didn’t want to argue.

 

His sapphire blue eyes dipped down to his watch again and he started, realised he was one minute over nine and leapt off the bench, casting a wordless _finite_ to clear off all his concealment and heating charms. He would never have joined the Auror force after the war if he’d known it involved so much sitting around. He started out across the square and heard the laughter coming from the pub, The Drunken Ass (with the obligatory sign of a tipsy donkey swinging in the wind), and looked at the light spilling out onto the snowy ground. He could practically taste the yeasty atmosphere and the warmth. He stopped and the snow fell in his hair. He was dressed as a muggle, as that was always easier when undercover to adequately blend into the community.

 

His boots were dragonhide, his jeans were black, his coat was long and broad-shouldered with silver metal buttons, underneath he wore a simple black t-shirt. Plain enough, but he would still look odd ambling into the village pub of what, he could tell, was a close-knit, small community. But something in the pub called to him like flames called to moths, the way the Knight Bus called to drunks; his mouth was suddenly dry and desperate for a drink, any drink.

 

_Screw it. I’ll just say I got lost during the day and found myself here. They don’t ever have to know who I am or what I’m doing. Nobody knows me here or what I am._

With that Ron crossed the snow and pushed open the heavy old door to the pub, nearly dribbling as the smell he’d anticipated rushed up to meet him and enveloped his frozen body. It was half full and the sound of merry, chattering voices filled the low-ceilinged room. It was, Ron was thrilled to find, exactly his kind of pub –mismatched tables and chairs, vintage signs and bottles decorating the walls with all sorts hanging from the ceiling, and the bar itself was made out of dark old beams of wood. Nobody paid him much attention as he walked up to it.

 

There was one man standing behind it, his hair long, black, and drawn into a ponytail. Ron looked him over and realised he was incredibly thin, but then he didn’t really have room to comment. He remembered one of Hermione’s parting remarks about cuddling up to a bag of bones and winced. The man at the bar did not turn round to him, and just continued wiping the glass he held. Ron bit his lip and looked furtively at the man’s back, willing him to turn around so he didn’t have to raise his voice in the pub where he was the outsider.

 

Then Ron’s eyes caught a sign tacked on one of the pillars connecting the bar to the ceiling, which read:

 

_‘Yes, I am ignoring you.’_

He choked on his laughter and took a tiny step back to read the other signs cluttering the beams.

 

‘ _Dogs welcome; children on application’._

He laughed outright at that and the smile didn’t fade from his face as he reached up to unbutton the neck of his coat. The man at the bar must have heard him, because he spoke in a low deep voice.

“Sorry, off in another world, what can I-”

 

If the world had exploded at that moment, Ron wouldn’t have noticed. The man had turned as he spoke, and Ron found himself looking at somebody who he had not seen in eight years. That was mainly because the man was meant to be dead. And if Ron was in shock, it was _nothing_ compared to the look of pure horror which spread over Severus Snape’s face as he stood looking back across at him.

 

Pretty sure his mouth was open, Ron struggled for words, but was saved from finding them when a figure appeared by his side and put an empty glass on the bar.

“Same again, like usual,” he grinned with a rough, Scottish accent. “Not seen you before here, lad, what brings you up this far on a night like this?”

 

The shock still in his eyes, Ron turned to the man and stammered for something to say. “I uh… well…”

“Ach, I didn’t really care,” the man assured him with a wink. “You just look a bit too city to survive out in that,” he jerked his head to the snowfall outside. He chucked a note on the bar which looked like it had seen better days and waited for his pint, which, Ron was shocked to turn and see, Snape was pulling.

 

His dark eyes were trained on Ron as he did so, and when Ron looked straight at him his skin seemed to bleach a little whiter.

“Keep the change and buy this one a drink,” the man jerked his head at Ron. “Lad looks like he’s going to perish at any minute.”

 

He waddled off and sat back down with the other patrons, leaving Ron staring gormlessly across the bar at Snape, having only been able to shoot the man a grateful but still stunned smile.

“What do you want?” Snape asked him quietly, sending his eyes over the punters, checking nobody was paying them any attention.

 

Ron couldn’t answer him and merely stood with his mouth open.

“Weasley, seriously, what do you want? And for the love of God sit down,” Snape hissed, gesturing to one of the old bar stools.

 

Ron plopped down wordlessly on the stool, not bothering to remove the messenger bag slung over his torso, or the rest of his coat. “Anything. Something strong,” Ron blinked a few times.

Snape looked at him before raising an eyebrow. “Whiskey?”  
“Yeah,” Ron breathed, watching as the thin man turned away from him.

 

 _Alright, what the bloody hell and fuck? Snape’s dead. This can’t be Snape._ He tried to tell himself that, but then something else struck him. _It must be. He knew my name. He knows who I am and I… but I was there, I was fucking there! Holy fuck and hell._

The glass was in front of him with ice and amber liquid faster than Ron could have anticipated. He grabbed it and knocked it back in two gulps, appreciating the burn in his throat and the way it scorched beautifully down his gullet, leaving a mellowed taste on his tongue. He dropped the glass back on the bar and looked back at Snape.

 

“B-but you’re… you died! I was there!” He got out wildly, trying to keep his voice down.

“Really?” Snape looked at him disdainfully. “It seems someone forgot to alert my central nervous system, it’s been miraculously responsive for the past eight years.”

“But you… I know what I saw… and there…”  
“Was no body?” Snape finished for him awkwardly.

“You… you gave all that shit to Harry,” Ron swallowed. “All those memories… why would you… if you weren’t… oh fuck; give me some more of that stuff…”

 

Ron finally reached up and tugged the bag strap up over his head and then tore at the buttons of his coat –the heat had accosted him on finishing the whiskey and his face had to be glowing an unflattering shade of red as he began to roast. He stripped it off and let it fall from his shoulders, draping down to the dusty pub floorboards. He kept his eyes on Snape the entire time. He reached behind him to pull his t-shirt where it had stuck to the sweat on his back.

 

Snape poured him a considerably larger measure but didn’t ask for any money.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked, feeling more comfortable unrestricted. He reached down to make sure his wand was tucked carefully down by his thigh.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Snape shot him a glare.

“You look like you’re working in a pub on Christmas Eve,” Ron raised his eyebrows. “And, more than anything else, you’re fucking _alive_. I don’t believe… if this pub wasn’t full of muggles…”

“Well, it is,” Snape said authoritatively. “Would you mind explaining what on earth you’re doing here, Weasley?”

“I… work,” Ron finished lamely. “Look, do you still… do you still practice magic?” he whispered.

 

Snape gave him a long, assessing gaze and then a tiny sigh escaped his lips and there was a slight nod of his head. “But not all the time. I live a mainly muggle life.”

“But you do use some?” Ron tapped his index finger on the side of the tumbler and Snape nodded.

 

_Well there’s my magic then. Fucking hell. All that time and it was right under my nose in the sodding village pub. I’m a shit Auror. I should quit._

 

Sat in the warm pub with his fingers curled around a glass of excellent whiskey, quitting sounded like a very tempting idea to Ron, even if he was faced with someone back from the dead. He shook his head slightly and looked back at Snape.

 

“I’m an Auror,” he said quietly. “I was assigned here because some magic was picked up on our sensors… and because this place isn’t all that far from Hogwarts, I got the short straw of trying to find out who was casting it as they’re so protective of the school. And I obviously did a very shit job. Well done, you’ve managed to give me a heart attack and make me realise I am absolutely awful at my career in one night…”

 

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought there was a tiny quirk of Snape’s lips when he stopped talking.

 

“I’ve only been in the area for a few weeks,” the man said softly. “I… well. I’ve moved around rather a lot and obviously got lax on my location judgments…”

Ron shrugged. “It’s in the fucking middle of nowhere. I’m not surprised you didn’t realise.”

“You could try to clean up your language, Weasley,” Snape gave him an eye roll. “They’re a peaceful folk round here…”

 

Ron couldn’t believe he’d just been belittled by a man back from the dead, whom he no longer had to obey at the seasoned age of twenty-six. “Christ,” he muttered, “You’ve not changed, have you?”

“I seem to remember you having a mouth like a sailor at school, as well, so neither have you,” Snape countered, folding his arms over his chest.

 

Ron looked back at him before his lips curved into their own smile and he gave him a tiny incline of his head and sipped at his whiskey.

“So I am the reason you’ve been dumped here?” Snape asked him wearily.

“Yup,” Ron answered glumly. “I just finished and was going home, thought I’d have a drink… and… look, let me see your neck; you do have scars, right? That was one hell of a snake bite! How did you…”

 

“Weasley,” Snape hissed, and there was a glint in the dark eyes which left Ron in absolutely no doubt that this was his acerbic Potions Master from the past –he’d seen it too many times before to fail to recognise it. “Keep your voice down. I am not under duress to answer any of your questions so do not presume to question me.”  
“Actually,” Ron pointed out. “I am a _Senior_ Auror with the authority to arrest on sight if I feel the need.”  
“Are you threatening me?” Snape asked in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting into his hair.

“Not really,” Ron yawned. “Just remember that fact before you try belittling me. I have the power to bust your arse for being un-registered and if you treat me like you used to, I’d have no hesitation in doing it. I’m not Harry.”

 

Ron watched closely to see the effect mentioning The-Boy-Who-Lived would have on Severus Snape, the man who had given everything to keep Harry that title. Shoulders stiffened and lips tightened, but other than that Snape did not give any indication of caring about the mention of Harry.

 

Instead of commenting, Snape dragged a stool out from under his side of the bar and sat on it. Ron suddenly felt very self-conscious as the onyx eyes raked over his form, no doubt taking in his pale, freckled face and waving red hair, which reached his shoulders, much to his mother’s consternation.

 

“How old are you now?” Ron could see him making calculations in his mind.

“Twenty-six, twenty-seven in March,” he confirmed for him with a smile. “How old are you?”

 

Snape ignored him. “And you’ve been an Auror since you left school?”

“Yeah, we were the youngest to be accepted and the first without NEWTs.”  
“You did not sit for them?” Snape’s voice was full of surprise. “I would have thought that Miss Granger…?”

“Hermione sat hers,” Ron gave him a shrug. “But I took what was offered. I didn’t need to go back…”

 

Ron fell quiet and looked behind the bar, stupidly hoping, even after eight years. “You know… you’re back from the dead, so I might as well ask, you’re not hiding my brother behind here with you are you?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Snape frowned.

“Stranger things have happened,” Ron sighed, and took another mouthful.

“Who did you lose?” Snape asked quietly. “I apologise that I have to ask, I stayed away from all the major publications during my recovery, they only served to make me angry. I only know that you three survived.”

“Fred,” Ron added, “one of the twins,” in case Snape couldn’t remember all the different redheads he’d taught.

 

They were interrupted by a woman ambling up for a round of drinks and Ron fell into silent thought whilst Snape served her, and it was odd to watch the thin, reserved man flit around the bar, doing something as menial as pouring drinks and taking money. When the woman was gone, Snape sat back down, and looked over Ron again.

  
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said genuinely.

“It’s been eight years,” Ron shrugged. “It’s not so hard any more…”

“I dread to think how his twin must have taken that…”  
“Oh yeah, George is…” Ron let out a low whistle. “Struggling on but half the man he was.”

“Loss is hard enough...” Snape didn’t need to finish his sentence for Ron to understand.

 

“Did you marry Granger?” Snape then asked bluntly, and Ron felt eyes linger over his hand, totally free of a wedding band. And free of the engagement band he’d been wearing up until three weeks before.

“No.”  
“Is there a tale behind that?”

 

Ron looked up, nearly choking on his mouthful of whiskey at the man’s daring, but then he lost his astonishment and sighed. “She left me three hours before our wedding was due to begin. And kept the flat.”

“Ouch,” Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You could put it that way,” Ron gave a conceding tilt of his head and a grimace.

 

“Why did she leave?” Snape pressed further.

“Why are you asking?” Ron’s voice was full of depression, a voice sick of talking about the subject hand backed up by a mind thoroughly frazzled by holding a continual post mortem of the situation.

 

Snape looked at him with unreadable eyes and replied, “I have not corresponded with anybody in your world in eight years, Weasley. I would be lying if I said I had never wondered what became of you all.”

“Well you could have just picked up a bloody paper,” Ron snorted. “As if our lives were ever going to be private again…”

“Your… relationship ending made the Prophet?”

“Yup,” Ron nodded. “I swear if one of us let out a particularly interesting sounding belch those vultures would report it.”  


“Well, you needn’t ask me why I never returned, if that is the way you see the journalists in your world, you already have my answer; it is your own…” Snape raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Ron chewed his lip, and then stopped, remembering all the times Hermione had chided him for that bad habit.

 

A beautiful yet galling feeling shot through him –the memory that he didn’t have to care what Hermione wanted him to do or not to do any more.

 

“She left because it wasn’t working,” Ron looked into his drink.

“Is that not why most relationships end?” Snape looked at him sarcastically.

“I don’t know why,” Ron said into his glass. “I did everything right. I was attentive, I was loving, I remembered birthdays and anniversaries, I did the bloody mortifying thing of asking her father for her hand in marriage because that’s what she wanted… I don’t know, Snape, I don’t know why she left.”

 

He finished on a deeply bitter note and knocked back some whiskey, then looked at Snape, who looked back with a blank face. It should have rankled that he could sit and listen to another man’s misery without feeling sympathy, but Ron actually found it the freshest breath of air he could have asked for. For three weeks people had been creeping around him, asking questions and making not-so-subtle digs about how he could have handled it better. But Severus Snape just sat there and looked at him gripping his glass of whiskey, and said nothing.

 

_I suppose that’s what it’s like when you’re a man who lived a life of miserable atonement like he has._

“So why are you here?” Ron took a deep breath and asked. “Now you’ve pried into my life.”

“I am surprised you divulged all that information,” Snape turned and picked up a beer mat from the bar and began shredding it in his fingers. “I certainly did not ask you to.”  
“I know that,” Ron shrugged.

“If I am to tell you anything I want your word this won’t get back to the authorities… I…”

 

Ron instantly understood what the hiding man was saying. “Even if I did, Snape, it wouldn’t matter –your name was completely exonerated.”

 

Even that news didn’t draw more than a raised eyebrow out of the statuesque man. Ron wondered just what it would take to move him.

 

“But your word?” Snape finally spoke again.

“Why does that matter so much to you?” Ron snorted, and finished his drink.

“If you were in my position, Weasley, would you trust anybody?”

Ron thought about it for a split second, then shook his head and said, “No.”

“Well then…” Severus broke off as someone else approached the bar to place their empties on the bar and bid him goodnight and a Merry Christmas.

 

Ron didn’t find much festivity in the way Snape replied, but then he had never seemed like a particularly festive man. From what Ron knew, he couldn’t really blame him. It was strange to sit there and know so much about a man he had thought it was okay to pry on simply because he was dead. He knew everything Harry had uncovered, from the gifted memories to the journals Snape had kept through school which had been found when they cleared the Headmaster’s study at Hogwarts, along with several letters, obviously never sent, addressed to Lily.

 

The group leaving seemed to spark off a chain of departures, which surprised Ron seeing as it was only ten, but then it was the country and the weather seemed to be getting worse, and it was Christmas Eve. When Snape sat back down again, only they and two other groups remained in the homey pub.

 

“So do I have your word that whatever I tell you remains between us?” Snape asked him, folding his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t trust me,” Ron shrugged. “I’d understand. I should really get going anyway… Do you want money for the?” Ron gestured at his empty glass with melting ice cubes.

 

Snape shook his head and waved his hand dismissively and fixed Ron with an intense stare as he got up, reaching for his coat.

“You are content just to walk away?” Snape asked, surprised. “You find someone you presumed to be dead and are happy to just walk away and not ask for answers?”

 

Ron didn’t put his coat on but answered, “Well. Yes. If someone has lived in secrecy for eight years, something tells me my interruption wouldn’t be welcome. I’m not thick, Snape, no matter what you thought about me at school. I’ll apparate home, keep quiet, and nobody ever has to know we met.”

“Sit down,” Snape commanded him suddenly and reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring another large glass.

“I should go,” Ron wasn’t going to admit he was thinking of his rats, hungry on Christmas Eve.

“You’re content to let that fine whiskey go to waste?” Snape asked, screwing the cap back on the bottle.

 

Ron looked at the glass and then at Snape. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the snow was falling more heavily. Decidedly he plopped down on his stool again and threw his coat over the next one.

 

“The pub belongs to my cousin,” Snape said quietly, picking his half-shredded beer mat up again and looking at it as he spoke. “Who is my last living relative. I have been in contact with her over the eight years, but never before taken up her hospitality. I’ve been here about a month, and help her when she needs me to –she has recently split up with her husband and working alone was too much for her. Tonight is one such night.”

“Nice of you to give up your Christmas Eve,” Ron commented, holding his glass against his lips.

 

Snape shrugged. “I do not celebrate Christmas.”

“Do you celebrate anything?” Ron twigged quickly.

“Not particularly, Weasley. There’s very little to celebrate.”

 

For the first year in his life, Ron actually agreed with the sentiment. In the run up to the holiday all he had felt was bitterness and anger at the way what should have been his first Christmas as a married man was ruined and he would be alone until he sloped miserably back home to his parents for the actual day.

 

“I’ll drink to that,” Ron muttered finally and toasted his glass to Snape with a minute move of his hand, before drinking.

“You certainly know how to put that back,” Snape commented, watching him.

Ron shrugged. “Yeah, well. If I’m honest I’ll admit that I’ve spent more time sloshed over the past three weeks than I have sober.”

“A dangerous way to cope with your problems,” Snape’s face took on a hard edge and Ron felt stupid, remembering what he knew of Snape’s childhood and his father.

“I know.” He sighed and set the glass down.

“I meant what I said, do not let that go to waste,” Snape gave him a small smirk.

“Why aren’t you drinking it?” Ron asked interestedly. “You seemed like a man back then who could appreciate the need for a stiff drink.”

“I was.”

“What changed?” Ron raised his eyebrows.

 

Snape looked at him again and then his black eyes flicked to the two remaining groups in the pub. Ron nodded in understanding and changed the subject.

  
“What have you being doing for eight years… if you’ve only just moved here?”

“Very little,” Snape admitted with a shrug. “Rather poor show for someone so intellectually motivated, to be honest. In my last year at the school I was writing articles for the Potions magazines under an assumed name. But without access to materials all of that has fallen by the wayside, and so have I.”

 

It was Ron’s pity that blossomed then; where Snape had none for him, Ron was feeling it in droves for the pale, thin man sitting in front of him. Something about his face had changed, Ron thought, which made his nose look a little less offensive, made him seem softer around the edges. He would never be described as handsome, not with those teeth, but Ron couldn’t help but feel intrigued by his face.

 

“Weasley, you’re staring,” Snape raised an eyebrow.  
“Sorry,” Ron shook his head. “You look different.”  
“Older,” Snape rolled his eyes.

“No,” Ron licked his lips. “Something about you’s changed, I can’t place what.”  
“You are much changed as well.”  
“So I’d bloody hope, I was eighteen when you saw me last… I had hoped I’d turned into a man somewhere along the way.”  
“I think all of your year was turned into men long before their time,” Snape murmured, and paused to throw the remnants of the beer mat into the bin by the till.

 

_What is it Harry always says? Peeling the labels off bottles and shredding beer mats means you’re sexually frustrated? Well… that wouldn’t bloody surprise me._

 

“So where are you living?” Ron pressed on.

“In the living space above the pub,” Snape waved at the ceiling. “It means I can help on short notice if she has staffing problems.”

“Good of her to let you stay,” Ron smiled.

 

Snape hummed his agreement and then his attention was grabbed by the two groups standing to leave and calling their goodnights. Ron turned and watched as the man collected up empties and then when the last person left he closed the door and bolted it before bringing the glasses back to the bar.

  
“Apologies, I’ve just bolted you in –just go when you’re ready.”  


Ron peered out of the window and saw the snow falling even heavier than before and sighed. “I’m not going out in that,” he turned back to his whiskey.  
“I need to clear up,” Snape said matter-of-factly.

 

“Oh,” Ron turned backed to the pub and yanked his wand out of his jeans. He cast a few spells to clean the tables then sent the chairs up on them that he could and enchanted the broom resting on the side of the bar to sweep up the floor. “Done,” he turned back to Snape with a smile.

 

“Thank you,” Snape’s voice seemed clouded and somewhat bemused.

 

Ron got to his feet and looked at some of the old pictures framed on the wonky walls as he kept his drink close to his mouth. He felt eyes on his body and knew Snape was watching him, but didn’t particularly care.

 

“The venom injured me,” Snape said suddenly, and Ron turned back to him. “You asked to see my neck, but there is nothing really there other than scarred puncture marks. The real damage was done to me inside.”

Ron frowned as he hopped back onto his stool and leaned his elbows on the bar.

 

“I was without oxygen for a fair amount of time, I cannot properly estimate just how long,” Snape walked to turn the lights off closest to the door, leaving just the bar and the back rooms lit, though Ron noticed, for someone who didn’t celebrate Christmas, Snape left the pub’s tree with its multicoloured fairy lights on. “Alcohol I could drink bottles of now reduces me to a drunken mess and hard spirits hurt more the next morning than they ever did in my youth.”

 

“Sure you’re not just getting older?” Ron winked at him and was surprised when Snape’s face relaxed into a half-smile. “Gods, it’s so weird to have… that you’re here…” he gestured at the pub.

“Why are you so surprised, Weasley? Did you really think that my life was a dead expanse between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord? That there was nothing filling the gaps and nothing for me to turn to?”

“No… I just… it’s…. weird! You’re Snape, The Potions Master, and yet here you are in a pub in the middle of fucking nowhere, drying glasses and pulling pints.”

“I can see how it would be strange from your point of view,” Snape conceded and leant back against the till. “But there is always more than meets the eye, Weasley.”

 

Ron gave a curt nod and drank some more, beginning to feel pleasantly warmed by the alcohol. It would be his last even if he didn’t leave. His stomach let out an embarrassingly loud rumble and he flushed. “Sorry.”

“You were out there all day?” Snape looked absently through the window. “You must be hungry?”  
“I am, but it can wait until I get home,” Ron shrugged dismissively, but Snape had already moved.

“There is some food left in the kitchen. You’re welcome to it.”

 

Ron nearly fell off his stool because it slammed into him once more how bizarre his evening had turned out, to find Snape in a pub, be served drinks by him and now to be offered food.

 

_Maybe I’m asleep? I’m going to wake up and be warm and snug in bed and I’ll think ‘fuck, that was whacked’ and then I’ll forget it by the time I’m having my morning piss._

 

He gave an appreciative smile as Snape swept out of the bar _–how does he still swoop when he has no robes?-_ and disappeared into the back of the pub, leaving Ron quite alone at the empty, darkened bar. Feeling odd, Ron’s eyes fell on the Christmas tree, twinkling colourfully in the corner of the room. It was large, real and standing straight on the floor and Ron had the sudden urge to lie down beneath it and look up into the branches and lights, like he had when he was a little boy.

 

Not wanting to seem a complete idiot, though, he settled for getting up and wandering over to poke at the lights to make the colours jiggle, ignoring the way they were hot and burnt his finger slightly. It was decorated with glass baubles and wooden decorations. There was a window where he could look out at the snow –all in all it should have been a perfect scene of relaxation and happiness, except for the fact he was in the middle of nowhere in a locked up pub with Severus Snape.

 

 _He’s not shown any homicidal tendencies at all, you’re being judgemental…_ Ron told himself off and a small smile crept onto his lips at the thought of what his friends would be doing if they knew where he was.

 

“Here,” the voice made him jump and he slopped some of the whiskey down his t-shirt. “Bollocks,” he muttered, making his way back to the bar.

“What did I tell you about wasting that?” Snape raised an eyebrow, taking in the damp stain visible even on the black material.

“Sorry,” Ron apologised, and sat back down so his drink could come to no further harm.

“It’s just leftovers from when the kitchen was open tonight, if it’s not warm enough, say,” Snape gestured to the food.

  
“Its fine,” Ron insisted, and gratefully ate a chip before picking up the fork Snape had left. “Aren’t you eating?”  
“There was only enough for one,” Snape shrugged, and sat back down, and picked up the mug of tea which he had brought back with him from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Ron paused. “I didn’t mean to… steal your dinner.”

“You didn’t,” Snape assured him.

“You’re lying,” Ron stabbed the fork at him. “And I don’t want to intrude. I can go home and eat. You should-”

“Weasley, I’m not going to stand here and argue with you over leftover pie and chips. Eat the damn food and shut up.”

 

Ron let his eyes drop to the food, suitably chastened, and did what Snape told him, even though he still hated being bossed around by the man.

 

“You said I had been exonerated…” Snape trailed his fingers over the till, deep in thought. “Would you explain that for me?”

 

Ron swallowed his mouthful and immediately replied, “Harry. Harry just sort of… took it upon himself to clear your name, providing the memories as evidence, and Albus’ portrait…”

“The memories… he…”  
“He would never have used them Snape if he thought for one minute that you’d lived. We assumed the Death Eaters had claimed your body from the shack thinking to dispose… uh… sorry. Bury you, as one of their own.”

 

That got a sneer on the thin lips and Ron cursed at his insensitivity.

 

“Why?” Snape asked finally.

“Harry feels indebted,” Ron shrugged. “He’s… always been cut up he could never thank you for everything you did… I… well. He’s not the healthiest of blokes, Snape.”

“Are you insinuating that is my fault for saving his life?” One eyebrow rose.  
“Well. No. But yes. Without becoming obsessed by you I doubt he would have ended up for a three week stay in St. Mungo’s for depression. Fucking Prophet had a field day with that…”

 

There was a slight growl then and Ron looked up from his food to see Snape’s face completely drained of blood and his eyes glittering with anger in the low lighting.

“You act as though I asked Potter to do all of those things,” Snape hissed. “Like I asked him to drive himself into the psychotherapists’ hands!”

“Well no but you-”

“All I ever wanted was my job done and my debt fulfilled,” Snape spat, his hands clenched into tight fists.

 

Ron set down his fork and got to his feet, retreating nearer to the Christmas tree for what seemed like his own safety. The man had been so calm and indifferent since the initial shock of seeing Ron had passed but now he seemed alive, consumed with fire like Ron had known him to be before.

 

“Snape, I didn’t mean it was your fault-”

“Just because that insolent bastard saw fit to fall in love with the image he saw of me as the hero doesn’t mean I should fall on bended knee, Weasley, I’ve had enough of that in my life.”

“You ungrateful prick!” Ron suddenly heard himself seethe.

 

Maybe it was because of the insults to Harry, Harry who had spent so much time making sure Snape’s name had been cleared, made sure there was a headstone for him in the Hogwarts memorial cemetery when plenty wanted him excluded. And maybe it was because he was just so tense and stretched to breaking that an argument felt like a good idea. Nobody would argue with him under the pretence of not wanting to hurt him any more. Maybe Ron wanted to shout.

 

“What did you call me?” Snape passed the bar. “Weasley, I have entertained you all evening when I should have thrown you out and locked the door. Of all the fucking pubs in Scotland, you had to trounce into mine!”

“Well excuse me for needing a bloody drink,” Ron hissed, edging back towards the Christmas tree. “You still talk about Harry like he’s nothing more than the thorn in your side. He’s not any more. He carries no bitterness about you but you’re just the fucking same, aren’t you? Sneering and snarling about your miserable bloody past. Everyone back there has fawned over your memory for eight years, Snape, eight fucking years, and yet fulfilling your debt didn’t do fuck all did it? You’re still a miserable bastard!”

 

“Weasley I suggest you watch your mouth –I do still have a wand and I do still use magic,” Snape threatened, advancing on him, which caused Ron to edge back further and one of his arms sank into the branches of the Christmas tree.

 

“Well you are,” Ron shrugged. “Guess you always will be. You can’t even find happiness living as a muggle. It makes me wonder why you’re bothering.”

“A question I’ve asked myself many times,” Snape took another step and Ron tried to move back, but all he managed was knocking against the Christmas tree.

 

“Oh, fuck, no, shit!” he hissed as the tree gave a great lurch and tipped to the side as his weight hit hard enough to move it.

 

He closed his eyes and waited for the sound of impact and the feel of the water from the bowl at the bottom of the tree to splash up his legs, but instead he wobbled himself, hearing the tinkling of breaking glass, and then there were hands on his upper arms.

 

_Fucking bastard attacks me now when I’m fucking distracted –low little Slytherin shit!_

 

Ron struggled free but lost his balance again, and then there was a thoroughly odd sensation as hands grabbed his head, the thumbs on his cheekbones, and seemed to be guiding him.

 

 _What the fuck?_ Ron swallowed as he crashed onto the floor, Snape’s hands still cradling his head, and then Ron realised that the other man’s face was oddly close to his, with closed eyes. Absorbing Snape’s weight, Ron was winded on the floor and he gasped, feeling the cold water from the tree’s upturned bucket seeping through his t-shirt.

 

 _Is he kissing me? Is that what this is? Fuck. This night just got a whole lot weirder… if… he’s…_ Somehow Ron found his face lifting up and then stupidly, as though it were the thing that had been going to happen all along, he pressed his lips to Snape’s who froze deadly still and then pulled his head back with shocked eyes.

“What in the name of Morgana and associated sorcery was that, Weasley?”

“A k-kiss,” Ron stammered, cheeks flushing madly.

“Why?”

 

Snape’s eyes were utterly confused.

 

“You kissed me…”

“I assure you I did not, and would not,” Snape frowned, and then Ron felt the hands cradling his head disappear, and he rested on the bare floorboards. “I assumed that…” Snape reached over and carefully picked up a shard of glass, bringing it into Ron’s vision. “You did not wish to spend your Christmas Day in the hospital with a brain injury? And whilst we’re on the destruction vein, look what you managed to do to the blasted tree.”

 

Ron stared at the glass like it were an alien, and then he turned his head to the side and saw the piles of shattered glass from the broken glass tree decorations –which lay exactly where his head would have landed had Snape not grabbed him and directed him sideways. “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Snape dropped the glass back on the floor and instantly got up, leaving Ron looking up at him.

 

“Eight years on, Snape… you still make me feel like a twat,” Ron muttered, closing his eyes with the shame of what he had just done.

There was a short, deep laugh. “Your words, Weasley, not mine.”

“Bastard.”

 

Another laugh and then Ron felt hands grab hold of his and he was hoisted to his feet with strength he had not expected from a man looking so thin. They stood too close together for comfort and Ron looked at the face which was far more intrusive into his personal space than he had ever thought it would be again.

 

_His eyes are like the fucking abyss… you could stare forever and never reach the bottom._

_Fuck. How much of that whiskey did I have? I’m thinking about Snape’s eyes…_

_And now I’m still standing here looking at his eyes… and he’s looking back… fuck…_

 

Ron glanced up then and noticed the mistletoe which had been hanging next to the three and snorted a laugh. Snape followed his gaze and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

 

“You should finish your food,” he said, stepping away.

 

Ron didn’t know what made him do it. He reached out and grabbed the man’s upper arm, preventing him from walking away.

“You’re meant to kiss under mistletoe,” he said thickly, swallowing some of the huskiness out of his tone.

 

Snape looked at him like he might have gone mad. “Weasley, don’t be ridiculous. I understand you misinterpreted my actions just now. It was ridiculous but I assure you your secret is quite safe with me.”

“Secret?” Ron frowned, not releasing his grip on Snape’s arm.

“That you kissed such a broken man as me and a man at all at that,” Snape narrowed his eyes. “You may finish your food and then you can leave, Weasley. I thank you for the periodical news update you’ve given me. I suggest you go home and heal whatever Miss Granger has broken within you.”

 

“How did you… I…” Ron stammered over the words that Snape had guessed how much he really hurt inside –but then he wondered if he hadn’t hidden it quite as well as he had thought.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Snape said softly. “I’m sure you’re hiding it adequately from everybody else. I simply recognise the look in your eyes, Weasley, is all.”

“Do you think we can drop the Weasley and Snape business?” Ron breathed. “I can call you Severus; you’re not my teacher now.”

 

Snape looked at him and his jaw twitched, as though he wanted to issue a sharp rebuke and send Ron away. Ron was totally expecting that to happen.

 

“Ron, then,” Severus conceded with a slight nod of his head. “You should finish your meal, and go.”

 

He stepped back up to the bar and started loading the empties into a crate to take to the back room and said no more. Ron turned around and looked at the royal mess he’d managed to make of the Christmas tree, which was flattened on its side, devoid of most of the decorations and the lights dangled haphazardly from the branches. And then Ron was laughing at his own stupidity, looking at the piles of broken glass.

 

“Oh Godric I’m sorry,” he wheezed, pulling out his wand. He dried his t-shirt. “I’m so sorry… I’m…” his laughter took over again as he resurrected the pine and repaired the baubles. He stepped forward and started re-arranging the lights by hand, though, making sure they were evenly dispersed throughout the green, still chuckling as he did so.

 

Then he stepped back and looked at his handiwork with a satisfied smile.

“That looks better than before,” Severus commented, close to him again.

“Maybe I’ve found my true calling in life,” Ron reached out and gently turned a sparkling star. “Christmas Tree Dresser.”

 

Severus shot him an amused smirk and walked past him to look out of the window. “It is rather picturesque up here, is it not?”

“Well seeing as I spent my day freezing my bollocks off in it, I’m not entirely in love,” Ron shrugged, and headed back to his food, which was still warm. He was chewing when Severus spoke again, still facing the window.

 

“This is a nice place. I was planning on settling here.”

Ron immediately felt guilty. “Sna- Severus,” he corrected, “I meant what I said. I won’t tell a soul if you want to remain hidden. I understand why you would.”

“Do you?” Severus walked back to the bar and leant on it, looking sideways at Ron with an eyebrow raised.

 

_He’s thin but there’s something about him. His hair is so much cleaner than it used to be at school. Longer…_

 

“You’re staring again,” Severus sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry -I thought you were dead,” Ron shrugged with a laugh. “You’ve got to give me some leeway here, I… spent months wishing Fred back and he didn’t come, and that does things to you. People are dead, they’re not meant to come back, no matter how much you want them to, and then here you are. Though I’ll admit, I wasn’t hoping for you to be alive.”

 

Severus looked him over and then turned his eyes in thought to the pumps on the other side of the bar. “Why did you not hope I was alive?”

“I just never thought about it,” Ron said slowly. “You were… this bastard who I’d spent six years getting detentions from, insults… you didn’t think I was worth anything, why the fuck _would_ I want you back? Harry, yeah… I hope even you could see why he’d want his chance with you, to clear the air, to say what he needed to say… but me?” He shrugged. “You were, and I say this in the nicest possible way, just a blip on my radar that had a tragic end but I had other things to deal with. I don’t think you’re the sort of bloke that’d be offended by that. If I’m wrong, though, feel free to give me a punch.”

 

“I’m not offended,” Severus assured him. “In fact… that little speech has endeared you to me a whole lot more effectively than six years at Hogwarts managed.”

“Not surprised, I was a shithead at Hogwarts,” Ron snorted to his food.

“I don’t recall you being as bad as you seem content to remember yourself?”

 

Ron put down his fork having cleared the plate. “Well. I seem to remember a comment about me being so solid I couldn’t apparate myself across half a room…”

“You couldn’t,” Severus pointed out without emotion.

“Saying that to a sixteen year old boy is a kick in the balls.”

“School is hard.”

“It didn’t have to be, you made it that way, for everybody, just because it was how you went through school.”

“Plenty of people deal with life with such action.”

“Making it miserable because they’re miserable?” Ron raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. I don’t operate that way… well… not any more. I haven’t got the energy to hold grudges.”

  
“Which, I presume, is why you’re still sitting here?” Severus rubbed at his chin nervously.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And what about Draco Malfoy, hmm? If he were to walk through the door right now?” Severus needled.

 

Ron fixed him with a long hard look. “The door’s locked, Snape, nobody’s walking through it.”

“Ah, back to Snape I see, I’ve touched upon a nerve.”

“ _Severus_ ,” Ron said pointedly. “You picked Malfoy because you knew there was always bad blood. Oh, wait, fuck _knew_ , you encouraged it from day one. You never stepped in to stop his comments about my family.”  
“Why should I have? Your playground squabbles were not my business.”  
“Harry’s should have been.”  
“Harry’s squabbles were not your own.”

 

Ron laughed then. “You don’t get it, still…”  
“What?”

“Of course Harry’s squabbles were my own. I feel… responsible for the way he and Malfoy were at odds, in a way. I met Harry alone on the platform at King’s Cross,” Ron swallowed and continued with the memory. “My mother set on him like the total mother hen she is and he looked so… scared. As you would if some big hairy bloke had told you you were a wizard.”

 

He looked up then, to see if Severus was willing to let him talk or if he wanted him to shut up; the wizard just looked back at him with an unreadable expression and gazing eyes.

 

“He met me and then because I was nice to him, he stuck with me… and when Malfoy turned up his nose at me, Harry took it personally because he insulted _me._ If I’d left him alone on the train, said nothing more… with what the sorting hat said to Harry, about him doing well in Slytherin… God knows how this all would have turned out.”

 

“He might still have made the choice he did,” Severus spoke softly then.

“Anyway. My family’s problems became Harry’s. We were so… he was like a brother.”

“Not more?” Severus asked suddenly, and when Ron looked up the man was looking at the corrected Christmas tree.

“What?” Ron frowned.

“Well… considering you’ve just kissed me, Weasley, and I seem to remember you being Potter’s person he would miss the most during the Triwizard...”  
“You had plenty of time to delve into Harry’s mind,” Ron rolled his eyes. “Did you ever once see a memory which insinuated we were more than friends?”

“That is not an answer to my question,” Severus looked at him.

“He’s never been more than a brother,” Ron muttered. “I have always been in love with Hermione.”

“Something god-awfully romantic like since your first day at school?”

“No, I hated her when we first started. But I’d imagine it started the day she lied for us about the troll…”

 

“I knew she was lying,” Severus snorted.

“We were shocked,” Ron recalled, slouching in his chair, his hands falling down between his legs as he looked up at the ceiling with a smile on his face.

“I am sorry that things did not work out between you,” Severus offered up again.

“You don’t have to be,” Ron’s eyes snapped to him but was surprised at the fervency he saw in the dark pools. “But thank you, I guess.”

 

“How did your family take it?” Severus reached for another beer mat.

 

_I’m not going to judge… I could do some mat shredding of my own right about now…_

 

 “Mostly well. Mum was crying, not sure whether about the loss of her daughter-in-law or the loss of the potential grandchildren.”  
“Not for her heartbroken son?” Severus frowned. “I remember your mother well, a very kind woman… It seems odd that she would be so callous as to not include your own upset in hers.”

 

Ron looked at him, shocked. “I wasn’t aware you’d… paid that much attention.”  
“I was a spy, I paid attention to everything…” Severus reminded gently. “And your mother was… well. I was part of the Order, but nobody trusted me. Your mother made tea and handed out food regardless. When you’ve got a roomful of death glares upon you whilst distrust radiates from every pore, you don’t know _quite_ how much comfort one can find in an offered chocolate digestive.”

 

“She’d be thrilled,” Ron told him with a warm smile. “That’s my mum, charitable to the end even though she’s barely got two sticks to rub together.”

“That and she never seemed to appreciate Black very much. It instantly likened her to me.”

“No,” Ron shook his head in agreement. “Mum never took to him… and I know why, she never fully trusted him, I don’t think. And she didn’t think he was suitable to look after Harry. And she loved Remus, but his devotion to Sirius coloured him in her eyes…”

 

“How is Lupin?” Severus asked awkwardly. “I was… I kept up the wolfsbane until I did what was requested of me with Dumbledore…”

 

Ron nearly fell off his chair before he remembered that Snape had been without contact and had openly admitted he’d stayed away from the papers just after the Battle. “I never had the impression you liked him… all right, we’re being honest… I thought you would have ripped his guts out had you been in close proximity for longer than you had to be…”

 

“Lupin was… insufferable in his own way,” Severus frowned. “He never stood up to his friends, never joined in their torment but never stopped them either… though I do, and always did, understand that to some extent.”

“Well… he died, so did Tonks… they’d just had a baby, Teddy…” Ron said uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on the wood of the bar.

 

He was surprised when Severus immediately got up and walked away, his hand covering his mouth, and stood in front of the window as he had before, looking wordlessly out at the snow. Ron was overcome with the notion to comfort, even though he couldn’t fathom why, and he followed the man quietly. Without thinking, he reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.

 

Severus jumped and leapt back at Ron’s touch and he lurched out of the way to avoid a collision, but, once more, only succeeded in dislodging the Christmas tree, which went flying again with the same shatter of glass and tangled lights.

 

Ron flushed hideously and winced, not looking sideways.

 

“Is it that you don’t _like_ the tree?” there was amusement in Severus’ tone and Ron felt able to look up at him and saw he was trying to hold in a laugh.

“No, I like the tree,” Ron sighed, and pulled out his wand again, fixing the tree and arranging the lights as before; but that time Severus moved to help him do so.

 

Ron reached up to straighten the fairy, but Severus had had the same idea, and their hands met with a thud of skin-on-skin. Instantly moving aside so that he could lower them, Ron’s heartbeat crept up a notch when he felt a cool hand circle around his wrist. With embarrassing slowness Ron looked at the other man.

 

“You step that way, you’re under the mistletoe again,” Severus glanced upwards and released Ron’s wrist when he stopped moving.

“Why don’t you just remove it if you have such a problem with it?” Ron grinned, and returned to adjusting the lights.

 

Severus stayed silent and did not move. Ron was round the back of the tree when he spoke again.

 

“Why did you kiss me before?”

“I thought you were kissing me,” Ron said defensively.

There was a small huff of disbelief. “Yes, but that only leads to the question –why did you kiss me back?”

 

Caught out, Ron blushed red again and suddenly felt extremely hot. “I…”

“There must be a reason,” Severus raised one eyebrow and waited.

 

Furious that he was being tormented, Ron turned the tables. “Well, why do you keep asking me about it?”

“I’ve been alone for eight years… and you come out of the blue, and kiss me. And then you touched _my_ shoulder. And then your heartbeat started a merry little rhythm when I touched _you_. I am merely enquiring as to your actions.”  
“Did you like it or something?” Ron frowned.

 

Severus stayed quiet and as Ron emerged from the back of the tree he caught a moment of pain on the pale face.

 

“Are you… I…” Ron didn’t know what he was trying to say, so he shut up.

“You will learn,” Severus gave a shuddering sigh. “That when it comes to being alone, yuletide is one of the worst times of year. Knowing that everybody is holed up with their families and loved ones, and yet you have none to go to…”

Ron unwittingly took a few steps closer to the man, the urge to comfort rearing yet again even though he could tell it would not be well received.

 

“Forgive me, I should not be scaring you with such descriptions… you are hurt enough,” Severus murmured quietly, and turned, but once more Ron reached out and grabbed him.

 

However, that time it was with both hands, one apiece on the man’s upper arms and they were suddenly looking into one another’s eyes. Ron could feel warm breath over the skin of his face and the steady thrum of life force from Severus’ body.

 

 _What the fuck am I doing?_ Ron had no answer as he stepped even closer, bringing their chests together, and let go of his grip on Severus’ arms to slide them protectively around his back.


	2. Chapter 2

“Weasley…” the word was somewhat tremulous, but Severus did not move, and then almost tentatively, Ron felt the motion of arms and then warm hands pressing against the base of his spine and over his hips, the only way that Severus could touch him with his arms trapped by Ron’s.

 

And so, throwing more caution to the wind than he knew he cared to throw, Ron reached up and hooked his arms behind Severus’ neck, freeing up the raven-haired man to do as he pleased. And somewhere in Ron’s chest a fire sparked into life when arms looped around him, holding him close as, it felt like, he had not been held in a long time.

 

They were face to face, steadily considering each other’s eyes.

“Your eyes… I have never thought they were quite so… they are like clear sapphires.”

Ron blushed, even though it wasn’t strictly a compliment. “I guess…”

 

So close he could almost hear the heartbeat of the other man as they stood wrapped around one another in the darkened, atmospheric light of the Christmas tree.

“What are you doing, Ron?”

 

Ron thought he detected a hint of desperation in the tone as Severus spoke, though he still did not move away.

 

“I’m not sure,” Ron breathed, and inclined his head some more, meaning that there were only millimetres between their lips.

“Then maybe you should stop.”

“Do you want me to?”

 

Severus’ dark eyes seemed to penetrate him even deeper, then, and Ron felt utterly bare, even though he felt no push of legilimency. The eyes were still looking when Severus leant forward and captured Ron’s lips with his own.

 

As if he had pressed a magic button between them, both of their bodies sprang to life. Ron melted into his touch and pressed closer, bringing one arm down to grip Severus’ back, and Severus sank a hand into his red hair, tilting Ron’s head back slightly so he could dominate the kiss.

 

Ron didn’t think twice when a tongue, warm and wet, brushed against his lips –he parted them and lost himself in the sensation of being held in such a tight grip as Severus was holding him. It was nothing like he’d ever shared with Hermione, the man was too strong to imitate her soft touch.

 

 _Was it soft, or just half-hearted?_ The thought drifted across Ron’s sub-conscious and he gasped against thin lips, which pulled back accompanied by questioning eyes. Severus was waiting for him to explain.

 

“I…” Ron breathed, face flushing once more and he suddenly felt crushed, embarrassed that he hadn’t realised quite what was wrong with the embraces he’d shared with Hermione up until someone showed him differently.

“I apologise,” Severus said in a deadened tone and immediately made to drop his arms.

“No-” Ron blundered, his eyes wide in protest. “Do that again. Please, do it again, Severus.”

“What is it?” Severus asked astutely.

“I’ve never been held or kissed like that,” Ron breathed, dazed eyes looking down at the man’s neck and taking in the neckline of his shirt. “Are you… surely that’s…”

 

Severus was looking at him like he might be mad. “What are you trying to say?”

“I just… is that the way people kiss?”

“When I last kissed somebody, yes… it was some time ago, though, maybe they have changed it?” One eyebrow quirked up to aid the joke.

 

Ron gave him a weak smile.

 

“But you kissed back with the same intensity.”

“Did I?” Ron frowned.

 

Severus watched the hurt and confusion dilute into the sapphire eyes and gave a small sigh. He brought his hand round to brush a long red fringe off Ron’s brow and tilted his head.

“You were not aware that it could be so passionate. That you yourself were so passionate.”

“I guess I never took the same to consider my own snogging skills.”

“Only those of the person you were with,” Severus murmured softly, eyes sliding down Ron’s long nose.

“I’m an idiot,” Ron breathed with a desolate huff of air. “How did I never notice that she…”

 

They stood in silence for a while, each looking at the other.

“We should not be doing this,” Severus said finally, and stepped back, though Ron’s grip prevented him from moving and Ron stared with eyes asking for an explanation. “You are very clearly… broken. Three weeks and you’ve not even begun to heal, as is right. I do not believe you would be kissing me if you were not hurt.”

 

“Well, let’s be honest,” Ron swallowed. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I would never have accepted the job on Christmas Eve, I would never have sat in your pub for so long because I couldn’t face the thought of going home to a flat empty of life other than my two very loving pet rats.”

“You… rats?” Severus asked.

“Hermione never liked them,” Ron gave him a rueful smile. “They’re great. Always cheer me up. They’re probably banging their little paws on the cage bars for dinner threatening to owl animal protection on me for being a terrible father.”

 

“You’re… strange,” Severus failed to find a better adjective and Ron laughed.

“I won’t deny that.”

 

“Are you even… you’ve just come out of what I presume is an eight year relationship, with a  woman… and if you are hoping I’m hiding some breasts under this top you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

Ron snorted with laughter and shifted his weight between his feet. “Well… so fucking what? All I know is I’ve never been kissed or held like that and you… This is all fucked up. To find you here, to talk, to end up in your arms... None of it’s _normal_. So, so what?”

 

Severus looked at him deeply.

 

“And anyway,” Ron frowned slightly. “You were… Harry’s mum. You loved her enough to wage a war. But you were kissing me.”

“I suppose that is a valid observation,” Severus muttered and Ron didn’t miss the way the dark eyes seemed to close to his gaze, then.

“Sorry,” Ron instantly apologised, and leant forward to place a sweet kiss on the man’s thin lips. “I shouldn’t have mentioned the past at a time like this.”

“It was a valid observation,” Severus repeated, and looked down at Ron’s chest as he continued. “I am… I was bisexual.”

“Was?” Ron swallowed.

“I’ve not had any form of romantic dalliance since I left your world,” Severus gave a small shrug.

“Old fires burn deep,” Ron gave him an understanding wink. “I doubt much changes.”  
“And you, then?” Severus seemed determined to ask.

“Well. Women didn’t work out so great for me,” Ron shrugged honestly. “I’ve never given it much thought. Might have freaked out when I was younger but now... you’ve been… all night I’ve just wanted to look at you.”  
  
“Because you thought I was dead,” Severus supplied.

“Well, I really hope you’re not or I’m sure that makes me some kind of… iliac…”

“Necrophilia.”  
“That’s the one. So. You’re not dead, are you?”

“Maybe it would be better if I was.”

 

Severus stepped away and broke out of Ron’s grip, walking back to the bar and staring intently at a bottle of vodka hanging up.

 

Ron watched and an icy cold threatened to douse the flames in his chest. Only when they were in danger did he realise quite how much he had enjoyed them.

 

 _This is fucking mad, Ron, what are you doing? He’s got to be… well. Forty-six? Forty-six and you’ve just snogged him. And your crotch had further ideas… you’ve never been with a bloke…_ His mind mentally berated him as he kept his eyes on Severus’ back. _Yeah but it’s not like I’ve not… those toys were pretty interesting. Not like I’ve never been…_

 

“You can go,” Severus’ voice cut across the empty pub.

“I don’t want to go.”

 

“You should go.”

“But I-”

 

There was a movement so sudden that Ron didn’t have time to react; Severus whirled round and grabbed him, throwing him back harshly into the bar, then crushed their lips together in another kiss which sent the fire roaring down into Ron’s belly and, he was devastated to feel, his groin. His sudden arousal would be noticeable to the man pressed hard against his front, plundering his mouth with ragged breaths and with his wandering hands.

 

But then Ron felt the mirroring hardness and his shame evaporated. _He needs this just as much as you do…_ Once more his subconscious let the thought float out and Ron reacted positively by grabbing what he could with his hands, massaging sensually. It wasn’t until his left hand squeezed what he realised too late was Severus’ backside that the kiss stopped.

 

“Don’t toy with me,” Severus’ voice was low and husky. “You can feel how much I want this as I can feel you…” there was an experimental rock of the hips and Ron groaned loudly at the contact, and the way it sent bolts of electricity to the very tips of his fingers. “I am not-”

 

“Shut up,” Ron gasped, and kissed him sloppily, his lips engulfing Severus’ thinner ones.

 

Hands landed on his hips and yanked them closer, meaning they rocked even tighter as the kiss deepened and Ron nearly lost control when a low, deep growl sounded within Severus’ throat. He was so hot and what was startling him was how he wanted _more._

“Stop!” He breathed, throwing his hands up to Severus’ shoulders and pushing him. “Not here… I want more… you…”

 

There was a look of understanding between them and then Ron felt his hand be grabbed and his body be tugged out of the bar, into the back rooms. They made it halfway up the cramped staircase before they melted together; Ron’s back trapped against the wall and Severus’ hands working at tugging up his t-shirt. Cool hands smoothed across the heated skin of Ron’s stomach, creeping up to his nipples where they grazed before pulling out.

  
“Oh sweet Merlin,” Ron groaned as Severus kissed him again, fingers deftly popping the button of his jeans and touching at the wiry curls exposed by the fact his underwear had slipped slightly.

“Have you ever been with a man?” the voice was low and whispering in his ear and Ron was ashamed of the desperate whimper which escaped his lips. “I’ll take that as a no. Any limits?”

 

Ron might not have been with a man but he was not stupid enough to misunderstand those words. And he wasn’t stupid enough to deny himself the pleasure, either. “No limits,” he shook his head. “I’m…”

 

His words melted into thin air as right before him, Severus sank to his knees on the stairs and pulled down his jeans slightly, before palming his erection through the stretchy cotton underwear. Ron’s face flamed suddenly as he remembered what he was wearing. “Fuck, I didn’t know… shit…”

There was a low laugh. “Nice.”

“They were a gift, it’s rude not to wear gifts,” Ron gasped as the heel of Severus’ palm pressed hard into his shaft.

“That is perfectly true,” Severus conceded, and then pressed his lips forward to kiss the hardness through the cotton. “They’re going to have to come off, though, I can’t do this with the little Father Christmases looking at me.”

 

Ron choked on his laughter as the material was lifted away and then there was a very definite kiss pressed to the hot flesh. “Fuck, wait,” he scrabbled for his wand and performed the basic hygiene spells which were only polite.

“You are… I have been without regular magic for so long you will have to remind me,” Severus murmured, and Ron looked down to see his dark eyes gazing over his body.

 

“Don’t,” Ron begged, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall. “Don’t look at me and change your mind, Snape, not now…”

“Funny, I was about to tell you the same… and you are far more likely to want to do so. You have… grown up into a remarkably attractive man…”

 

Ron didn’t have time to thank him or offer a compliment in return; his cock was suddenly engulfed in wet heat and he screamed in delighted shock, the sound echoing in the small stairway. He immediately reached up to clamp his hand over his mouth in shame and wanted to cry when the lips were suddenly gone and Severus was looking up at him.

  
“What on earth are you doing?” the low voice was incredulous. “There is nobody here but us.”  
“I…” Ron dropped his hand and his chest rose and fell with his embarrassed breaths. “I… thought…”  
“What?” Severus looked at him, genuinely perplexed by his actions.

 

Ron took a deep swallow. “I… she never liked me to… making noise. I’m loud. She hated it. She always… I’m just used to stopping myself…”

 

A furious look stole over Severus’ face then and Ron wanted to die with the deepened shame. “I’m sorry!” he burst out.

“It is not you who should be sorry,” Severus got to his feet. “God. Passion during sex is not something that should be controlled… if you are going to do this with me, Ron, you may react and feel as you want. I cannot believe I have found you so…”

“What?” Ron breathed anxiously.

“Conditioned,” Severus answered him simply. “You always seemed such a free spirit.”

 

Ron looked at him in horror and then closed his eyes, unable to take the way pity finally blossomed onto the blank face in front of him.

“I am a reserved man,” Severus spoke close to his ear. “You know that, or at least I hope you have guessed as much. I do not lay many of my emotions out for others to view, apart from the anger I have always struggled to control…”

 

Hands smoothed across Ron’s barely covered shoulders and settled down with thumbs stroking his collarbones.

 

“But if you expect me to be that way during sex… you will be surprised. What kind of sex would that be if neither of us reacted, breathed heavily, moaned…”

“The shit kind I’ve obviously been having for eight years,” Ron groaned, and did not open his eyes. “God… I…”

“Be as loud as you like,” Severus assured him with a gentle kiss. “And whilst this is not how I expected to spend my Christmas Eve, I think it will prove beneficial. For both of us. Unless you wish to let your embarrassment prevent you from continuing?”

 

Ron forced his eyes open and looked into glittering onyx pools and he immediately shook his head. “Fuck no.”

 

A true smile blossomed onto Severus’ lips then and Ron was fascinated by the way it transformed his face into relative warmth.

 

“Come, then,” Severus turned and walked the next few steps, his hand surprisingly trailing behind for Ron to take.

Slipping his warm fingers into the cool ones, Ron kept his other hand busy holding up his undone jeans as his underwear rode back up to cover his cock.

“Watch your head,” Severus warned him. “This is an old building and people were short when it was built…”

 

Ron ducked a low beam as Severus pulled him into a room with a simple sofa, a fire and a muggle television. It wasn’t what he’d expected but he didn’t have time to comment as it seemed that he was being led elsewhere.

 

The room they stepped through to contained a double bed, a wardrobe, a desk, a bookcase and little else. Ron looked around as Severus stepped away and turned the on the light which resided on the bedside table, and then turned back to look at Ron.

 

“Come here,” he said softly, and Ron immediately obeyed, tripping across the bare floorboards in his boots.

“Wait,” Ron breathed, and ducked down to unlace them. His fingers fumbled in his anxiety and by the time he stood up to kick them off into the corner of the room, he was glowing red once more.  
“Why do you spend so much time blushing?” Severus asked him. “That was not embarrassing.”

“I…” Ron shrugged, speechless.

“You are too used to someone passing negative comment on every little action,” Severus assessed, and reached forward to take up Ron’s hands, and laid them on his chest.

“I suppose,” Ron smoothed his hands over the black shirt, running them down to hook into the waistband of Severus’ jeans. “Should I…”

 

“If you want,” Severus replied nonchalantly, and reached up behind his head to pull out the hair band securing his hair. Ron watched it as the inky black swung forward, kinked from it’s time tied back.

“Your hair is longer,” he breathed, undoing the button on the jeans, keeping his eyes on the free tresses as he shoved them down to the floor.

 

“Is it?” Severus shrugged, stepping out of his shoes and kicking the trousers out to the side of them, reaching for Ron’s so they were equal in the undressing stakes.

Ron couldn’t help it; he needed to touch the silky locks. His fingers curled into it level with Severus’ ear and he almost groaned at the decadent texture.

 

He didn’t notice the entirety of his underwear was on show by that point, or that his legs were trapped in the fabric, which was unfortunate as he sprang forward to touch more of the man and stumbled. Luckily the bed caught their weight, but Ron landed on top of his old Professor, their groins only separated by underwear.

 

“You seem to have a habit of knocking things over,” Severus commented wryly, and grabbed Ron’s t-shirt and yanked it over his head, sending his hair into a puffy mess.

“I didn’t until this evening,” Ron muttered, and ducked his head to kiss him roughly, tightening his hold in the dark hair and licking hard against the writhing tongue waiting for him.

 

His erection back in an instant from it’s wilted state, Ron wriggled against the body below him, enjoying the way tension built in his crotch every time it connected to Severus’ and the way he could feel the intense heat radiating through the material.

 

“God you feel…” Ron panted and shook his head slightly. “I’ve never…”

“Why don’t you just be quiet?” Severus reached up and held his chin, his thumb stroking the underside. “Be quiet and let me show you passion you won’t be able to _resist_ moaning to?”

 

Ron looked down at him with eager eyes and nodded, and went when Severus pushed him onto his back. He looked up and watched as the man’s hands skated down the front of his shirt and pulled it off, throwing it the same way as their other clothes. He was thin, that much had always been obvious through his garments. When he moved Ron could discern individual ribs, and his chest was completely flat with little definition bar obvious collarbones, his stomach non-existent.

 

“Have you always been this thin?” Ron reached out to touch, his eyes fixing on deep pink nipples hardening in the cool air of the room.

“Have you?” Severus asked him with a raised eyebrow and plucked a finger in the elastic of Ron’s anatomy hugging festive boxers.

“You’re thinner,” Ron dismissed him and his eyes widened when he felt fingers trail all the way down his leg, over his ankle bone, hooking into his sock and yanking it off.

“I’m sorry,” Severus murmured after the second sock followed. “Those have got to go, they’re just too insanely happy for me to be able to focus at the moment.”

 

Ron snorted and lifted up his hips, too busy laughing to be ashamed of the fact he was now completely naked in front of another man as his merry festive underwear was removed. But his laughs faded and his mouth hung open when he caught sight of the way that Severus was hungrily looking at him as he lay stretched out on his back.

 

“I can quite safely say,” Severus whispered, “that she does not realise quite how much a gem she has thrown away. Oh, look at that, you blush all over…”

“Shut up!” Ron half-squealed and rolled over to try and hide. He felt cool hands on his side and then the heat of a body spooning up to him.

 

 _God that feels weird. Hair in places there shouldn’t be hair…_ Snape wasn’t overtly hairy, but still, Ron could feel the way those on their thighs met and tickled, the way there were furry patches pressing in between his shoulder blades and the base of his spine. He relaxed when there were soft kisses along the line of his neck and he groaned, surprising himself by wishing that there were no underpants on the man behind him.

 

“Why aren’t you naked?” he heard himself breathe.

“That is a fair question,” Severus muttered. “If you feel the need to change that, do…”

 

Ron instantly rolled and narrowly avoided cracking their heads together and Severus shot him a disparaging look. Ron ignored him and placed his hands one apiece over his hips. The underwear was simple, black, close fitting enough that nothing was left to the imagination.

“Take a picture, Weasley, it’ll last longer,” Severus growled and Ron jerked out of the trance he’d fallen into looking at the slightly curving shape of the erection beneath the pants.

 

He pulled them off without needing to be prompted and his cock gave an excited twitch.

 

_Have I been gay all along? What the fuck? That’s… Jesus. Fucking huge._

 

Severus sat up then and reached for his wand on the floor, giving Ron a surprisingly eye-watering view of everything as he leant forward. Ron knew his mouth was hanging open but he didn’t have the sense to shut it. Thin though he was, there was a lean strength in Severus’ body that held him captivated as the man moved. He heard uttered spells and looked up.

 

“Do you want me to…?”

“I am perfectly capable of using my magic, Ron,” Severus answered a little snappily, but then he turned with a softening face. “I apologise.”

Ron shrugged and gave him a small smile.

 

The intense passion which had claimed them below in the pub seemed to have evaporated, and Ron knew that was his fault for the way he had acted when Severus had tried to suck him. And Ron wanted that passion back at any cost.

 

He leapt forward and threw his arms around Severus’ torso, dragging him fully back onto the bed with a thump, and then he jumped on top of him, finally letting his naked skin graze against the prominent erection.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his lips curving into a determined smile. He ducked and claimed Severus’ mouth again, loving the way there was surprise but lust in the dark eyes which looked up at him.

 

What was driving him, he had absolutely no idea, but with very little grace he lifted his hips and rocked forward against Severus whilst they kissed, settling into a rhythm which made him moan continually. A hand skated over his arse and settled on the right cheek, restricting his movement to shorter, harder thrusts.

 

“What do you want?” Severus asked him as they separated for air with swollen lips.

“Whatever the fuck you want to do to me,” Ron growled, lust taking over his actions as his hair flopped forward over his eyes and he looked at Severus from beneath it.

“Merlin, don’t _do_ that,” the older man muttered, his eyes flashing.

“What?” Ron frowned.

 

They were upended with ease as Severus pushed him onto his back and assumed the position on top, his hair swinging forward to wash across Ron’s face. It smelt of light jasmine flowers and Ron looked up with a slightly incredulous look on his face.

“Don’t,” Severus warned him with a tiny smile and Ron made a face which was half-smirk, half-angelic. “Anyway, I meant, don’t look so utterly fuckable…”

 

Ron nearly combusted as the face and hair disappeared and hot lips left a trail of messy wet kisses down his chest, dragging through the hair there and leading down from his navel. He tensed with anticipation as he realised where exactly Severus was heading, and cried out again when hot lips surrounded the tip of his prick. Making the mistake of looking down, he found himself captivated with the sight of those lips stretched around his girth and then he was being licked with such force and strength he could do nothing but pant through it.

 

_He said eight years… eight years he’s not been with anybody… fuck. Fuck._

 

His hips were thrusting but he couldn’t remember when they’d started to do so; he was properly fucking Severus’ mouth and the man was just letting him.

“Fucking hell you’re good!” Ron’s fingers grabbed at the duvet beneath his body causing it to ruck in his fingers, as he lost himself in the wet fire.

 

Severus changed tack then and pinned his hips down with a wide finger-span over his pelvis, and moved to suckle the tip of his cock before bobbing his head up and down once in a clear stroke which had Ron mewling and trying to rise against his fingers. He was rushing towards an orgasm –he could feel it building in his sac in the way it tightened to his body.

 

“No, Severus stop, I’m going to c-” he choked on the word as the man sped up his actions, making sure his tongue slathered along the shaft every time he swallowed Ron almost to the back of his throat, massaging.

 

“S-seriously I’m going to c-come if you don’t…ohhhh fuck…” Ron heard his cry hit the bedroom ceiling and bounce back but it seemed to do nothing to detract Severus as he kept his mouth firmly wrapped around Ron’s cock. “Don’t you want to… ungh… shit… I…”

 

Nothing was going to stop his orgasm by that point, it was too roughly hooked into his veins –stopping would only have been cruelly painful. With his face screwed up in shame that he was about to come solely from a little bit of oral, Ron gasped, gave a shudder, and yelled out his orgasm into Severus’ mouth, desperately flexing his hips through the pulses of come which tingled leaving his shaft. His muscles tensed and his belly felt like a hook had yanked behind his navel and pulled with it all of his control.

 

“I’m sorry!” he burst out, still half-choked by the bone-melting orgasm. “God I… I…”

 

He panicked slightly and yanked his cock out of the willing mouth, flinging his arm up to cover his face and hiding it in shame.

“What?” Severus asked him.

“I… finished too early, I’m sorry, Severus.”

“Are you… Christ, you’re actually seriously apologising for your…” comprehension dawned in Severus’ tone and then he snorted. “Do you think that is the only time you’ll be climaxing tonight?”  


Ron flushed deeper at those words.

 

“Well, it isn’t,” there was a matter-of-factness in that tone which made Ron’s belly squirm with anticipation. “And if you ever apologise to me for an orgasm again, I will unceremoniously toss you out on your backside naked in the snow.”

 

“Alright,” Ron mumbled, keeping his arm over his eyes.

“You are twenty-six, not eighteen for God’s,” Severus said with pitying exasperation. “You clearly need a bloody good fuck with someone who knows what they’re doing without placing any form of expectation on you.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Ron tried.

“What did I just say about apologising?”

“You said not to apologise for orgasms, I was just saying sorry in general…”

 

Ron felt the bed dip beside him and then felt the gentle sensation of a hand massaging his stomach. “Look at me.”

  
The last time Ron had heard those words from the man in question, he had thought he was dying. And he had been looking into the green eyes of Lily Evans through Harry. Ron was scared to remove his arm but wasn’t surprised when it was tugged after Severus grew tired of his dithering.

 

“Much better,” Severus said curtly, then bent his head and kissed Ron on the lips. “So… that was your first lesson in passion you can’t resist.”  
“Definitely hard to resist, you suck harder than bloody vacuuming spell,” Ron muttered with a lustful glance upwards.

“If that was a compliment, then thank you.”

 

“Is the passion meant to dip?” Ron asked curiously. “Downstairs in the bar you were all over me, and then on the stairs, and then just now… but it’s bouncing around and I…”

“Well that depends on the people involved. Look. Can we not turn this into too much of a teacher pupil situation? I had more than my fill of that… and now I just find myself wanting my fill of you.”

 

“Have me then,” Ron raised his eyebrows in invitation. “Nothing is stopping you. I’m here, I’m naked, I’m not sure why but you’ve turned me on more than I thought possible… and I…”

“You what?” Severus whispered, so close to Ron’s lips he tickled them with the movement of his own as he spoke.

“I want you.”

 

Passionate fires stoked again, Ron found himself gathered up into a tight grip, a tongue licking steadily against his own and a painfully hard erection pressing into his stomach.

“Fuck, let me…” Ron wriggled downwards and instantly put his mouth to good use.

 

He tentatively flicked out his tongue and tasted the top of Severus’ erection, eyes taking in the inky black curls which surrounded it, and heavy balls arranged oddly in the way Severus laid on his side. Ron pressed a kiss to it and was bolstered by the low groan which he evoked. Wasting no more time, he sucked the whole head into his mouth and felt his own arousal spark again.

 

Fingers worked into his hair and held his head in place as he grew used to the taste and shape, licking away contentedly listening to the deep moans and growls above him.

 

 _Yes… well, this wins the award for the Weirdest Christmas Eve Ever. Sucking Severus Snape’s cock… God…_ He cut himself off before he could embarrass himself mentally with adorations of how good it tasted and felt to be giving pleasure like that.

 

“Stop,” Severus breathed half-heartedly and tugged Ron away by his hair; his eyes widened as the saliva coated cock bobbed in front of him, almost begging for his attention. “One of us should hold on…”

“I don’t mind,” Ron crawled back up and kissed him again, driven mad by the desire which spread through him when the man did not even bat an eyelid in accepting the tongue which had just been lapping at his cock. “I’ll do it again if you… mmmm….”

 

He was cut off by a deep kiss and a finger sliding down in between his cheeks before puckering around his hole. He gasped as it broke through the ring of muscle.

“I thought you said you’d not been with a man before?” Severus frowned at him.

“I haven’t,” Ron threw his head back and panted in delight at the sensation. “Doesn’t mean _nothing’s_ been up my arse before…”

 

He was thrilled to see Severus finally colour with something akin to embarrassment and laughed. “When you have a girlfriend who works away from home a lot… and you want to stay faithful… you really appreciate what magic can do.”

“You surprise me,” Severus breathed with a dirty little smile, and pressed further inward. “Care to go into details?”

 

Ron dropped his head so their lips were close together like before. “Just the usual toys enchanted to do what I wanted… I’m sure you know the drill…”

“No,” Severus drawled. “I’m not sure I do,” the finger within Ron writhed. “Why don’t you tell me what you did...?”

 

Groaning, Ron wrapped a leg over Severus’ hip, shoving their cocks together again, his own returned to full hardness. “Just… uh… wanking, and… a special… gods, yes… more… special dildo which fucks you until you come…”

“That sounds like an interesting way to spend an evening…”

“If you’re still conscious when it’s done,” Ron conceded, and latched their lips together, thrusting forward for friction in no doubt that the desire had completely consumed him now and he would not stop until he had been claimed and had climaxed again. “I want you to fuck me,” his empowerment helped him to breathe. “Make me see stars and make me forget the last three weeks ever existed.”

  
“And what do I get in return, hmm?” Severus retorted, seemingly gripped in the same throes of lust as he thrust against Ron’s younger body, though on close visual inspection there was nothing to really detail the age gap.

 

Ron let out a higher pitched groan as a second finger pushed into him. “You get a fuck,” he panted. “And maybe knock off some of the lonely years?”

“Three weeks is much more manageable to eviscerate than thirty years,” Severus whispered, and kissed him again. “But I would not rule out the possibility...”

 

Ron swallowed at that, at the implication he sensed which meant Severus might want him again afterward, after they’d sweated through their exertions.

 

“How do you want me?” Ron hissed, eyes barely open with their heaviness.

“Stretched,” Severus grabbed his wand and flicked it, before occupying Ron’s mouth prior to his cries infiltrating the room.

 

Severus drank every single desperate moan down as the spell worked deep with Ron’s passage, stretching him out and lubricating him.   
“What is this?” he breathed the first chance he could, his hips involuntarily rolling with the sensations. “I feel like I’m going to come all over again…”

“Oh to be young,” Severus rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of Ron’s cock to pump it firmly in his hand, only causing the mewling of the redhead to heighten. “Just give yourself over to it and have done…”  


“I…” words deserted him as the spell grazed over his prostate and he properly screamed out. “FUCK YES!”

 

“You are delicious,” Severus whined almost in disbelief, and dropped the erection in favour of rolling Ron onto his stomach.

“Can’t I… face you?” Ron asked in between gasps. “And when will this fucking spell end?”

“When you’re prepared,” Severus answered cryptically and he snorted when Ron made a disconcerted sound in his throat. “And no, I want the better angle from behind…”

 

Ron didn’t complain –up until that point it seemed Severus had been relatively selfless and as the experienced person in the bedroom, it made sense. It was with that in mind Ron raised onto his hands and knees.  


“Against the headboard,” the command came and Ron’s stomach flipped at just how dirty Severus Snape sounded.

 

_Has he always sounded like that? Has he always had that sex dripping accent? Did I miss it? Fuck…_

 

The spell finally faded away and he felt strangely open. “Done,” he half-shouted and scooted up to the headboard, resting his hands on it, his knees in the pillows.

“Eager,” Severus commented and smoothed his hands over slightly furred but perfectly rounded cheeks, taking in the broad back and shoulders, slim hips and powerful thighs. “If this hurts, tell me –there is no point in hurting yourself.”

 

Ron closed his eyes as his hips were dragged backwards and there was something blunt pressing at his entrance.

  
“Push back and relax, this is no different to when you fucked yourself all those times on your own,” Severus instructed in a ringing tone, and then Ron was filled with intense heat.

 

It burned even with the spell but he grit his teeth and rode it through, staying still until he felt balls slap into his own, when he groaned.

 

“Are you really that eager that the pain was nothing?” Severus whispered.

“It was nothing,” Ron growled and thrust back eagerly.

“Jesus…” Severus groaned and pushed forward.

  
Ron gripped the headboard as the man picked up pace, thrusting almost completely in and out of his arse with a bruising grip on his hips. Thrilled that he wasn’t being treated like breakable glass, Ron did as Severus had requested –he gave himself over to the sensation and heard all manner of embarrassing grunts, growls and moans rising out of his mouth.

 

“Please, fucking hell, harder… need you…” he cut off with a deep, grumbling moan as a hand suddenly pulled at his cock, teasing it mercilessly as it roughly grabbed at him. “You are…”  


Ron gave a surprised yelp as he was yanked upright and Severus’ free hand pressed into his chest, forcing him into the body which was pounding into him with force that seemed to be shattering through all his tension with every precise slam. He felt a hot mouth sucking at his neck and he tilted his head to give it better access. His hands felt redundant so he did the only thing he could think of –he reached back and grabbed hold of Severus’ arse and held on as it clenched with every thrust.

 

“You are so…” Severus cut off and growled as he hit deeper. “You are so sensual; she will never,” he gave a particularly deep thrust and Ron yelled in pleasure, “Ever,” the word was half growled with bodily exertion, “Know what she has thrown away…”

 

And then the world wobbled as Ron was gripped in an iron tight lock when Severus climaxed, moaning directly into his ear. That alone would have been enough, but the fisting on his cock only pushed Ron harder as he screamed his second orgasm of the night into the small, low-ceilinged bedroom and it flew everywhere.

 

He felt Severus sag behind him and Ron whimpered through the pulses still throbbing through his crotch as his dick began soften and his balls loosened. There was hot panting in his ear which did not let up and he detected a definite wheeze in the flow, and he felt a racing heartbeat pressed into his back.

 

Only when his own slowed a little did Ron realise that there were church bells ringing somewhere nearby, the sound sending a harmonic melody into the bedroom.

 

“Fuck,” Ron was surprised that the uttered word came from Severus. “Is it really midnight?”

“It must be…”

 

Ron groaned slightly as Severus pulled out of him, and slid off the bed. He clicked off the light and padded naked to the window, looking out into the snow.

 

“Does the late hour matter?” Ron breathed deeply, trying to calm his fluttering heart.

“I… well. My absence at Midnight Mass will probably be noted.”

“Wha- you’re religious?” Ron couldn’t keep his tone from becoming incredulous.

 

A low laugh met him and then Severus looked over his shoulder, his face lit by one of the lamp posts outside. “No. But this is a small village, I was invited and they’re good people… as I planned to settle I thought I would go… make an effort… I would like to fit in with them, even if that means participating in things I do not necessarily believe in.”

“Oh,” Ron swallowed. “I understand, I’ll go, you’ll just be a bit late…”

“No, that isn’t necessary.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

 

Severus turned to look at him and Ron was filled with horror that he might actually say yes, but then he shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

 

Ron watched as a hand rose and kneaded gently into a dark temple, “Are you okay?”

 

It was a futile question because Severus’ face had crumpled with pain. “I… another throwback from the snake venom and the time I was without oxygen,” he explained in a soft voice. “If I move too quickly or overexert myself, I end up with a raging headache.”

 

Concern blossomed out into Ron’s bloodstream and he reached for Severus’ dangling hand, but latched onto his wrist instead. “Here,” he pulled him down onto the bed and rose up onto his knees.

 

Severus visibly jumped when he felt the touch in his hair. “What are you doing?”

“When I have a headache, a massage always helps…” Ron said tentatively, wanting nothing more than to give everything back to the man who had just filled his body with electrifying pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” the words were there and Ron relaxed again. “I told you, I haven’t been so close to another being…”  
“Shh,” Ron placed a gentle kiss on top of the raven hair and set his fingers to work. “And when I’ve finished, I’ll run down and get my bag. I have to carry a MediKit for my job and I have plenty of headache potion in there. You can have it all.”

 

“You do not have to view me as your charity case,” Severus said, looking at the wardrobe opposite the bed.

“I don’t,” Ron assured him bluntly. “No more than you viewed me as one during that mind-blowing tutorial in passion.”

“Mind-blowing? Flattery is good for the soul… I had forgotten.”

 

Ron nearly groaned at the ache in his chest caused by the sadness layered deep within the man’s ‘indifferent’ tone.

 

“I notice you didn’t deny I was your charity case?” Ron grinned.

“You were not. If you notice I enjoyed that just as much as you did.”  
“Yes, your ‘enjoyment’ is currently dripping down the back of my thighs,” Ron hummed contentedly, working his fingers in delicate circles, careful not to apply too much pressure.

 

Ron massaged until his fingers were aching and he reluctantly sat back, flexing them before they became stiff. Sometimes he forgot he was not eighteen any more, and the injuries he sustained in the war and before took their toll. He didn’t notice that Severus had turned around and was looking at him.

 

“Sweet Merlin, I didn’t notice earlier… what are…” Severus reached out a finger and traced along the scars on Ron’s forearms.

“They’re from the brains that attacked me in the Ministry when I fifteen,” Ron looked down at them. “They’ve mostly faded now but when I… _overexert_ myself, they get redder and show up.”

“You have plenty of battle scars,” Severus looked him over.

“If you want to call them that,” Ron shrugged. “I just ignore them. Muggles seem to think I was some sort of extreme self-harmer. I use obfuscation spells if I have to be in their community for a long time. Get sick of the pitying and angry looks.”

 

“As if it would be anyone’s business if you had been,” Severus rolled his eyes.

“Quite,” Ron looked at him appraisingly. “I’ve never found anyone before who felt the same as me on that matter… everyone else tells me to cover them up.”

“Do they tell Harry to cover his scar up?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“You know your answer to that,” Ron gave him a sarcastic look and swung his legs off the bed, getting to his feet. “I’ll be… just going to get you the potions. Am I… should I put some clothes on or…?”  


“You’ll freeze on the stairs, there’s a dressing gown on the back of the door,” Severus looked over him once more and Ron smiled at him, before turning, unhooking the gown and throwing it around his shoulders.

 

It had the same scent as Severus and was obviously his.

 

_Must remember to mention the fact his hair smells decidedly girly later…_

 

Ron hated how there was an obvious grin as wide as the Mersey Tunnel slapped across his face and the way his body ached with the pleasant remnant of the thorough fuck he’d just received.

 

He crossed into the darkened bar and reached for his bag and coat, noticing the lights on the Christmas tree were still on.

 

_Now do I dare chance to approach this bastard again or is it going to jump at me?_

Ron edged around the tree and bent down to flick the plug socket to off, and ran quickly away, celebrating the fact that he and the tree had both managed to remain upright. He picked up his bag and coat and headed back up the stairs, his feet frozen by the cold steps. He passed through the darkened living area into Severus’ room and smiled at him.

 

“I turned the tree off.”  
“Is it still standing?”

“Bastard,” Ron laughed, and threw the robe off his shoulders to hang it back up, and then he rummaged in his bag, the contents of which spilled out on the bed slightly.

 

Ron unlatched the standard issue leather MediKit given to all aurors and looked for the vial. “Here,” he tugged out the purple liquid. “There’s probably around ten doses in that.”

“Thank you,” Severus said quietly, looking at him somewhat oddly.

“Is… is everything alright?”

“I am just waiting for the moment the reality of your actions sets in and you run screaming.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Ron frowned, concentrating on marshalling all of his rubbish back into the bag and closing the zip.

 

Severus didn’t answer him but turned to look out of the window. Ron put the light back on and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if the man’s hesitance meant he was no longer welcome.

 

“D’you want me to leave?” Ron asked hardily, hoping not to give away just how hurt he’d be if Severus answered in the positive.

“Do you wish to leave?”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Ron swallowed, taking the man’s diversionary tactics as a silent yes. “But hey I get it. Passion comes and goes, right? I’ll just get dressed and be out of your hair.”

 

_Hair which smells of fucking jasmine and sex._

 

Ron looked around for his Christmassy boxers and located them by the door. They had left quite a trail of clothing destruction, it seemed, in their eagerness. His boots were way over in the corner, his jeans by the bed, his t-shirt hanging on the door. Severus’ clothes were in similar states of disarray. Stepping into his pants, Ron pulled them up and looked forward to a shower when he got home, despite the late hour.

 

“Don’t leave…”

 

Severus’ words hung in the air and Ron turned to him, but he was still facing the window. So Ron walked clad only in his underwear and cut through the man’s gaze, stopping to face him. He noticed that the indifferent sadness was back on Severus’ face.

 

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. If you would like to stay. And your rats won’t be chewing through their own limbs in hunger.”

“Pah, do them good, they’re both a bit porky and they’ve got dry mix. I’ll have to grovel in the morning… but I… Something tells me I should stay, Severus.”

“And in the morning?” Severus looked up at him, dark eyes searching for something Ron did not understand.

 

“Well… I said I’d go to mum’s for Christmas.”

 

“It’s late, we should probably get some sleep,” Severus motioned to the bed, and then climbed beneath the duvet without another word.

  
Ron watched the lump in the bed settle and then he crossed to the other side. The room was dark. He was suddenly hit by a very bizarre idea. He saw an empty plug socket by the head of the bed and wondered if he dared.

 

“Severus?”

“Mm?”

“When you were little, did you ever do that thing where you lay underneath the Christmas tree and looked up at the lights through the branches?”

“No.”

 

The answer was short and blunt. Ron bit his lip and decided against his original plan. “Alright. Well. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

He ducked out of the bedroom again, snatching up the dressing gown, wondering what on earth was driving him in his madness.

 

_Probably the same thing which drove me to sleep with him. Christ. Wonder if there was something dodgy in that pasty I had for lunch? No, Breakfast. Lunch. Not important. Grrrr._

 

Ron stepped back into the chilly pub and flicked the lights back on in the tree. And then with an ungraceful, not to mention painful, thump, he threw himself down on his back and inched up under the tree until he had a good view and some of the lights were twinkling at him.

 

It felt odd to do it without company. Normally he had at least one brother jostling his shoulders for position, and Hermione had been with him for the last eight years.

 

He sighed at the thought of her name, and how successfully Severus had managed to chase her from his mind. The pain of the last three weeks had definitely disappeared, though he know once he was alone again it would come back. And he could not depend on someone else to be his healing factor.

 

“What on earth are you doing?” Severus’ voice rang out across the darkened room.

“I’m doing what I said,” Ron said softly. “Laying under the tree and looking up at the lights. Sort of a tradition.”

“Why on earth would you bother?”  
“Because it’s kind of beautiful,” Ron breathed, hearing Severus’ footsteps and feeling them vibrate through the floor. “The lights shine through the branches and it reminds me of being little, safe…”

 

He heard a thump and saw Severus pulling one of the upturned chairs off a table, dressed in what looked like black pyjama bottoms and a thick jumper with bare feet. When he sat down they were roughly level with Ron’s head. They seemed impossibly long with longer toes, bizarrely straight with neat nails, and hair creeping down the front following the bone of his big toe.

 

_And why the fuck am I staring at his feet when I’m presented with the Christmas tree, hmm?_

“So… are you just going to lounge about on the floor?” Severus asked disconcertedly, Ron could tell one of his eyebrows was raised without looking.

“Yup. You just lie, and look, and see the pretty lights, and forget everything shite about your life.”

“It sounds somewhat relaxing.”

“It is, why don’t you come down here-”

“No, thank you.”

 

Ron shrugged. “Your loss I guess.”

 

The floor was freezing, though, and his back and hips soon began to ache from the breeze which blew across the boards. He turned to conversation to keep his mind off it whilst he enjoyed the rosy glow of the lights.

  
“So… if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened after we left you…”

“After you three left me for dead, I passed out, not breathing. When I came to I was barely functioning but I had some antidotes in my robes, I swallowed them.”

“We thought you were dead, you’d bled everywhere and you stopped breathing… and what you said to Harry seemed so final. God, you should know that little bit of information had women weeping everywhere. You’ve got a sort of… romantic anti-hero thing going on. Girls are claiming they had crushes on you at Hogwarts, that you were only ever misunderstood, just needed a hug…”

 

“I suppose that analogy, that I just needed a hug, wasn’t far off the truth…”

“Except the woman you wanted it from was gone,” Ron said softly, watching a wooden Father Christmas decoration slowly revolve.

 

“That is the truth, I suppose,” Severus shifted his feet on the floor, he was obviously cold.

 

“Here,” Ron murmured, and parted the robe.

“Don’t be ridiculous, they’re freezing.”

“Well quite, I’m sure with your health issues being cold isn’t good.”

 

Ron was surprised but pleased when he felt cold, almost waxy soles press on to his stomach, and he wrapped them up in the dressing gown, trying not to complain at their temperature.

 

“So when you woke up?” He asked again.

“I had no wand,” Severus said slowly.

“Because Voldemort thought you were the master of the Elder Wand.”

“What?”

“Oh… fuck it’s…”

“I don’t want to know,” Severus spoke firmly. “I do not need to know. I have only ever wondered about the lives of those left behind, I have never felt the need to know everything that Albus did not see fit to trust me with.”

“Well, okay then,” Ron couldn’t believe his indifference. “You had no wand…”

 

“But I managed to get out of the shack and it wasn’t long before I found one just lying around. Miraculously I managed to apparate without splinching myself…”

“Yeah doing it under stress isn’t fun. I lost my arm that way,” Ron shuddered at the memory.

“I apparated to the caves I knew in the mountains behind the castle, and simply hid until I had regained enough strength to leave.”

“And then what did you do? Where have you been?”

“Around,” Severus sighed, and Ron nearly giggled at the way the feet on his stomach flexed and tickled slightly. “Ticklish?”

“No,” Ron lied badly.

 

“I shall note that down for future use.

 

“Future use?” Ron asked quietly. “I…”

“Only if, of course, you wished to return.”

 

Ron fell silent, looking up into the tree, trying to decide what on earth he could say to that. “You don’t live in my world any more… you’re off the map. And you’re meant to be dead.”

“And you have not healed from your break-up,” Severus said calmly.

“Well, no,” Ron sighed. “But how does anybody get over that? Eight years and she drops me three hours before the wedding.”  
“Better that she did it then than afterward, divorce is a messy business, so I have heard…”

 

“I just wish I… we talked, of course we talked. She tried to explain her reasons.”  
“What reasons did she give?” Severus asked, and Ron moved a hand up to rub over the feet resting on his body.

“That she didn’t love me –which is fair enough. I would never have expected her to marry me. But why… why three hours before the wedding, at my parents’ house with the fucking marquee already set up. And paid for. I’m Auror for fuck’s sake, not a millionaire.”

“Is it not traditional that the bride’s family pay for the wedding?” Severus asked, folding his arms over his chest.

 

“Hermione didn’t want that. She wanted us to pay for it ourselves. And because I had just received my promotion to Senior Auror, I earned more, my bloody chivalrous side kicked in and I shouldered more of the cost than her.”

“I’ll repeat my earlier sentiment, if you don’t mind, ouch.”

 

Ron snorted with laughter at that. “Damn right ouch. Not sure my bank balance will ever recover. At least I had enough to be able to put down the deposit on the flat I’m renting. I’ll have saved it up again in a few months…”

“You sound like, at least monetarily, you are doing well for yourself?”

“Yeah. I finally get some fucking money and my love life goes tits up. Timing, eh?”

“Nothing is ever plain sailing.”

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Ron admitted sadly. “I… just can _not_ figure out where I went wrong, Severus. I did everything I should have done, and more. I mean… if you tell anyone this I’ll kill you, but I took fucking dance lessons with her for our first dance which she assured me we’d never have… and then she went all bride-zilla and voila, there was the sodding first dance she swore on her life would never happen.”  
“You took dance lessons?”

 

The amusement was plain for Ron to hear and he sighed wearily. “Yep. Funny, she was rather pissed off when the instructor decided I was a better dancer than she was. Our attendance tailed off dramatically after that…”

 

“Ron, I don’t want to… hmm. Let me just say, from a total outsider’s standpoint, it doesn’t look like _you_ went wrong at all. Do not blame yourself so harshly.”

“It takes two to tango, as my brother so unhelpfully pointed out.”

“Which brother?”

“Percy,” Ron glowered. “Reconciled with us just before the final battle. For a good few years he was alright, Audrey mellowed him… that’s his wife… but when it ended with Hermione he just seemed to revert back. Like I was eleven again and I’d done something which embarrassed him.”

 

“Well, it might take two to tango but it only takes one to make an incorrect step and the whole floor might come down with them.”

 

Ron thought on that and licked his dry lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“So what will you do now?” Severus asked with a slight yawn, and Ron wondered what the time was.

“Well, I have the girls back at the flat… sounds sad I know. But they’re my pets. And then… Christmas tomorrow with my family… Mum’ll throw me sad looks and burst into tears after a few glasses of the cooking sherry and tell me she’s sorry it all went wrong. George’ll be moping around like he always does at Christmas and we’ll probably find him trying to do himself in again. Dad will try and keep everyone placated, safe and happy and get annoyed when nobody wants to co-operate… really I think I’d just like to crawl into the nearest snowdrift, freeze over and thaw when the summer comes.”

 

“Now, that’s a plan,” Severus smiled wanly down at him.

“I might not even go tomorrow,” Ron said softly. “I might just hide in the flat, block the Floo and sleep.”

 

“Where do you live? Magical or Muggle?”

“I live in London, muggle, but connected to the Floo and such. When I lived with Hermione we had a huge flat in the residential area of Diagon Alley. Great old place it was. Had its own ghosts and a building cat. I loved that bloody flat.”  
“So why did you give it up?”

 

Ron heaved a sigh, his heart becoming heavier with every word that he spoke. “Because I just didn’t have the fight. I got my most important belongings out and told her she could have the rest –I didn’t want any reminders of her in my new place. And that was true to some extent. Kind of wish I’d taken something to sit on though. I haven’t really gotten round to ordering anything but a bed for the new place…”

 

“Ron… you should have fought for your belongings,” Severus said simply.

“I know. Too late now. Right now just the thought of seeing her makes me feel sick.”  
“Because you still care for her and you want to get back together, or because you hurt too much?”

 

Ron realised there was more riding on that question than Severus wanted to let on, so he considered his answer carefully. “I… don’t want to get back together. I don’t want to be with someone who got bored of me after eight years. If she… if she gets three years down the line and realises she made a mistake, I’m pretty sure I won’t be taking her back.”

 

“Good for you,” Severus said with conviction.

 

“What about you?” Ron turned his head to the side to look up at Severus on the chair, and noticed he had his arms wrapped tightly around himself –either he was freezing or he was trying to hold something in. And Ron knew that because he could no longer count without taking his clothes off the amount of times he’d given himself severe arm ache from doing the same thing in the past three weeks.

 

“I will stay here,” Severus looked about the pub. “I like it. Its easy living, my rent is next to nothing because she is my cousin… and I like the people.”

“So if I were to come back and find you…”

 

“I would ask you to think carefully before you did,” Severus spoke in a continual sigh.

 

Ron grunted his assent and looked back up into the tree. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you down here, Severus? If you’ve never done it before, how do you know you wouldn’t like it?”

 

He thought there would be an automatic refusal, but in reality there was a pause, then a groan, the feet disappeared from his stomach and then Severus was kneeling by his side, turning onto his back and edging under the tree.

 

“What am I looking at?” he asked disdainfully.

 

Ron smiled into the branches and reached down to lace his fingers through Severus. “You’re just looking.”

“At what, though?”  
“Shut up,” Ron breathed, and his chest was filled with warmth and he knew why his tradition hadn’t felt quite right until that moment –it was a tradition clearly _meant_ to be shared.

 

“I hope whoever chopped this down checked for squirrels,” Severus muttered.

“Shut up!” Ron protested with a laugh.

“Yes sir.”  
“Oh, I like that.”

 

Severus’ dark chuckle made Ron beam up into the branches.

 

“I think I might quit my job,” Ron blurted suddenly, not knowing why.

“Is this because of the clumsiness with the tree? I’ll burn it on the blasted fire if you say yes.”

“It’s not because of the tree,” Ron assured him with a grin.

“Then what? You’re a Senior Auror, and in my day that came with a whopping great salary. Why would you want to quit?”

 

“It ties me to the war,” Ron breathed. “It’s the only thing now. Hermione’s gone.”  
“Oh, Ron, you don’t have to leave your job because of her.”

“No… I’m… it’s not necessarily because of her. I just wonder if it was what I really wanted. Of course I liked the fame. And I _love_ my chocolate frog card.”

“You have your own chocolate frog card?” Severus asked with a smirk.

“So do you,” Ron whispered and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well, now I know I’ve made it,” Severus gave him an eye roll he could not see.

 

“You also have an Order of Merlin.”  
“I don’t want to know,” Severus said firmly.

“It’s sitting on Harry’s mantelpiece.”

“Ron, just listen. I don’t want to know. I am not planning on rejoining the magical community and I will live a muggle life. They will not care if I have an Order of Merlin or not and neither do I.”

“Aren’t you even just a little bit curious about the things I could tell you?”

“Of course I am curious,” Severus frowned. “But I can retain my curiosity.”  
“Funny, you seem to be asking me an awful lot of questions…”

“You’re different.”

“How?”

“You’re maddening, that’s how,” Severus muttered out of the corner of his mouth and Ron snorted.

“Like that’s the first time I’ve heard that. I’m me, remember.”

“Yes… you are you. Somewhat changed from the boy I did remember.”

“Do you like the tree yet?” Ron changed the subject.

 

“Not particularly.”

Ron heaved a sigh. “Beauty is wasted upon you, clearly.”

“If you are fishing for a compliment about your own attractiveness, you’ll come up wanting.”

“You seemed pretty forthcoming with them upstairs,” Ron needled, nudging his elbow through the thick jumper to Severus’ ribs.

  
“Well, what one says in the heat of the moment is often different to what they would normally say out of it.”

“Oh, so, I’m not delicious, I’m not a gem and I’m not sensual?” Ron couldn’t believe that he was actually hurt.

  
“I did not mean it that way.”

 

Silence fell between them as Ron looked resolutely away.

 

_Should have known all that was too fucking good to be true._

 

“Weasley, are you moping?”

“No,” Ron spat defiantly.

“Good. Because if you were I wouldn’t tell you that I actually did mean all of those things.”

“Thank you. You should know that I would have repaid the compliments if you had given my mouth just a few seconds of rest.”

 

“You need not bother doing so now,” Severus shrugged slightly. “Everything I could have been flattered with was shown in your bodily reactions anyway.”

“I wouldn’t even flatter you if I said that you made me feel more alive than I have in years?”

 

“Would it flatter you to hear you did the same for me?”

“S’pose,” Ron grinned upwards.

“Well then. We’re both flattered, it would seem.”  
“And they say flattery gets you everywhere,” Ron mused.

“Where do you want it to get you?” Severus asked softly.

 

“In your bed,” Ron whispered back cheekily, eyes tightly shut with brazen shame.

“Oh,” Severus whispered in reply, even more quietly.

 

***

Severus awoke to the sound of boots on the floorboards of his bedroom and cracked open his eyes immediately, before he remembered whom he had fallen asleep next to. But there was nobody in his room when he looked around, and the bed next to him was still warm but empty. It was light outside the window. It was then that he noticed there was a tray on his bedside table, with a mug, a plate, and a folded note.

 

Groaning slightly, his thick jumper twisted round his middle, he reached out for the note, and read with bleary eyes:

 

_“Severus,_

_Flattery got me into your bed for the best night of my life, it seems. You’ll think I’m exaggerating. But you should just know it’s been a long time since I managed to do that four times in one night._

_Meeting you again has given me so much to think about, to re-evaluate my life with. I have never been more shocked than when I saw your face behind that bar but I can’t help but feel there was a reason for everything that occurred last night –for the simple fact that for some reason it felt more like home than I have known in a while._

_However, this is your new life. You are the one who made the decisions I could not straight after the battle –you cut off from everybody and I am envious of the peace you have, even if it is lonely._

_You are right. I am not healed from Hermione, and I won’t be for a long time. I cannot expect you to heal me, and I don’t. Nor do I expect you to be fine with being a rebound relationship, which is undoubtedly how you’d see it. I come with more baggage than I ever thought simple old me could carry. I am sorry if you feel there was any element of exploitation last night._

_I don’t know what the point of me writing this is. I needed to leave to get ready for the day ahead, but I haven’t had an ounce of sleep. When you slept I was too fascinated watching you. I think I was afraid if I fell asleep that I would wake up and find it had all been a dream. Why was I afraid of that? Because you saved me from my first hideous Christmas alone. I hope I have helped you too._

_I’ve written my address on the bottom of the letter. As you are living a muggle life, I expect you know how to work stamps and the Post Office (and the trolls that seem to work there). If you want to see me again, please write to me –or if you cannot wait, send me a Patronus before one when I leave for my parents’, as I will be alone then. I won’t come back without your word. And I will file a report saying the bursts of magic were from a malfunctioning sensor and you will be safe, undiscovered and I- oh so dramatically- will carry your secret to the grave._

_Thank you, Severus._

_With more affection than I thought I’d ever muster for you,_

_Ron_

_P.S: Take that the right way._

_P.P.S: Christmas Tree is still upright –I count it as a personal victory._

_P.P.P.S: If you look on the tray, I hope you’ll find some comfort there.”_

Severus blinked and sat up properly, looking over at the tray. Next to the mug of steaming tea was a plate full of milk chocolate digestive biscuits.

 

He swallowed, and looked at the address on the bottom of the letter.


	3. Chapter 3

_How on earth do I put this? What do I even want to put?_

 

Severus sat at his desk in the bedroom, hand poised to write over a blank sheet of paper, Ron’s letter positioned above it so that he could clearly see what the redhead had written to him. Tea and biscuits long gone, he had sat for two hours thinking over what had been said, and the night he had spent with the vision from the past.

 

He had awoken at ten, it was now midday and the church bells were ringing out over the village once more. Severus’ eyes lingered over Ron’s words about sending a Patronus, and how if he could not wait to send it before one.

 

_I am not conjuring my Patronus. I am never conjuring one again._

 

With the same determination with which he had wrestled his curiosity for all the things Ron could have told him, had he only asked, the night before, Severus pushed the pen he held down onto the paper.

 

_“Ron,_

_Return when you can. I would be grateful for your presence. However, I appreciate that it is a long way to travel. Wait until you have the time._

_I apologise for the length of time this will take to reach you –the muggle postal system is always hectic around Christmas and never recovers until the New Year. If this does not make it until then, I hope you have not wasted too much energy moping that I have not written._

_S.”_

There was no way in hell Severus was putting his name to anything. Everything from the night before had shaken him up –from the way the redhead had stared in shock at seeing him alive to his brutal honesty about the war, Severus’ supposed death and his own heartache, and more than those things put together, the way the man had caused a fire storm within his chest until he had thrown him against the bar and given himself up to intimacy like he hadn’t in years.

 

Severus stared at what he had written, knowing it would seem relatively impersonal.

 

_He seemed to enjoy my personality last night. He called me a bastard several times. Maybe he finds it attractive._

Lips curling into a wry smirk, Severus turned the pen over in is fingers.

 

_It would seem he is unable to make things easy for himself. Bouncing from her to me._

At that thought the slightly joyful presence on his face vanished and he looked down at the letter guiltily, as though it held all of his sins on the paper.

 

_He isn’t in the position to deal with me and my issues. I should not send this._

 

His hand moved to grab the sheet and screw it up. He had things that he should be doing and imposing on an old student was not one of them. But his fingers stopped short of curling around the paper.

 

_He left me the letter. He has given me the choice but made it clear he wants to be in contact. If that is all it is, contact… and sex…_

Severus shook his head then at his own stupidity. _As if it would stay so. He’s crying out for someone to teach him how to feel as deeply as he wants to be felt for. That much was obvious from the way he grabbed me…_

Thoughts then threw him back to the evening before, where sweaty bodies and gasping breaths showed him just how much Ron wanted exactly that.

 

 _And you want that as well, Severus, don’t you?_ A voice sounded in his mind which he hated to admit, even after all those years, sounded very much like Albus Dumbledore. It was the voice which perked up whenever Severus doubted himself, whenever he tried to omit whatever had given him happiness in his miserable existence. _He was good for you. And you know that. What it felt like to feel again, feel for something other than the past. To have someone very live in your arms…_

 

He shook his head again, but that time to clear out the infuriatingly chirpy voice.

 

 _Yes, just like bloody Albus._ Severus scowled and picked up the envelope already addressed with the location Ron had left on the bottom of his letter, a stamp stuck in the corner.

 

_Why bother dithering? I will send it. He has already said he is willing to mask my identity._

 

Whether that would change if their meetings progressed into something more than sex, Severus didn’t have the mental capacity to consider at that moment. He picked up the letter, folded it in half and slid it into the envelope. He licked the seal, closed it and tried to wash away the disgusting taste of the dried gum from his tongue.

 

_Eight years and everything still bloody tastes ten times stronger than it should._

 

Severus rose and reached for his jacket, pulling it around his shoulders and zipping it up. A scarf followed it on, old and definitely having seen better days. Ron had not asked many questions after he truly accepted Severus’ reluctance to speak about what he had been doing for the missing years. That reluctance sparked from his pride refusing to let him admit he’d spent eight years in relative poverty, eating very little and living on the poor balances in the muggle bank accounts he had held even when he was working in the wizarding world.

 

How their positions were reversed, it seemed. Severus had been proud to see the Gryffindor hothead having made something out of his life, holding such a respected position with good earnings. But it did not take a genius to see that Ron was hurting.

 

_After eight years and then being practically spurned at the altar I think I would hurt too._

Severus reached for the letter and turned from the bedroom, his eyes sliding over the bed which had been the setting for their union the night before. Images flashed through his mind again of a soft, creamy pliable body stretched out by his side, the musky aroma of skin wrapping around him just like, seconds later, Ron’s toned and muscular body had done.

 

 _Legs longer than a bloody gazelle. None of a gazelle’s grace, though…_ He smiled thinking of the poor Christmas tree.

 

Severus slipped out of the back door of the pub checking the keys were in his pocket. He made his way through the snow to the centre of the square to the post box, topped with a thick layer of snow. Without stopping to dither further, Severus shoved the letter through the rectangular slit, and then turned away, ramming his hands in his pockets. It would take a good while to get there, and he had time to think.

 

***

“I know I’ve only been back a few hours, don’t look at me like that,” Ron groaned, holding Peaches up in his hands to eye level –the rat was glaring with accusation. “You know I have to go to Mum’s for dinner.”

 

The rat made an angry grinding noise and Ron sighed. “Penny’s not this mad with me. You could at least take a leaf out of her book.”

 

He placed the rat back inside the impossibly large cage and closed the door with a quick tickle behind Penny’s ears. “At least you still love me, Pen.”

 

He shivered slightly and made his way through to the bedroom, loosening the towel around his waist. Top half dried naturally by the cold air of the flat, he searched for the first clean clothes he could find, which were somewhat creased, but would have to do.

 

_Mum’ll just attack me with an ironing spell anyway… should save myself the hassle and do it first…_

 

But he left his wand on the bed and enjoyed the freedom of being able to wear creased up clothes out of the house if he wanted to. As confused, miserable, cold, lonely and grumpy as he was –there was something to be said for being single again.

 

_Just need to find someone to settle the sex issue and then we’ll be well away. Friends with benefits?_

His thoughts flitted back to Severus as he tugged jeans on and warmth flooded through him, remembering the masterful way his body had been teased into climax four times by the dark-haired male. And as his hands brushed against his cock when he did up his zipper, he wasn’t particularly surprised that the memory was enough to make him hard again.

 

_I’m not going mad. It was never like that with her. Ever. I never got leg cramp from clenching with anticipation in eight years… and yet five hours with him…_

Ron slipped into old trainers and grabbed his comb from the end table cluttered with everything that should have been living on a dressing table he’d yet to order. He didn’t even have a proper mirror so he just dragged it through his hair and blow dried it a gentle stream of hot air from his wand.

 

_Jasmine. I wonder why on earth his hair smelt so womanly? I’m not complaining… it was nice…_

 

Ron looked somewhat guiltily at his pillow, beneath which lay a bottle of perfume which had accidentally slipped into his belongings when he’d grabbed them from their flat. Hermione hadn’t contacted in three weeks asking for it back, but as it was her favourite she would most definitely notice it was missing.

 

_Just for now. I’ll get rid of it in a few days. I don’t need her if she doesn’t need me. I can get through this._

He took a determined breath and headed back into the living room.

 

***

Curled up on his parents’ old, lumpy sofa, legs up by his side and trainers discarded on the floor, Ron carried on the determined vein. Open in his lap was a glossy catalogue from the furnishers in Diagon Alley. In one hand he held a bottle of cider and in his right his wand, with which he was tapping the images he wanted to select.

 

“Don’t buy a light sofa,” Charlie said, throwing his arms over the back of Ron’s seat cushion and resting his chin down on them. “It’ll just get dirty.”  
“Well, I’ll put charms on it,” Ron shrugged. “I want it light. I’m in a basement flat, remember, it doesn’t get much sun…”

“You look like you’re going for some girly beach house look,” Charlie commented, peering at the other items Ron had selected.

“And if I am?” Ron turned his head and raised a challenging eyebrow.

 

Charlie looked back at him with teasing eyes but said nothing. Ron turned back to the catalogue and ignored the implication of his apparently feminine furniture choices.

 

_Nobody is telling me how to decorate this flat. It’s mine and mine alone._

 

“Mum wanted me to say dinner’s not far off,” Charlie pushed up again and set a gentle hand out to ruffle Ron’s hair.

 

Ron stayed put, not dodging away as he once would have done. Rough, calloused fingers messed through his hair and he surprised himself by almost leaning into the touch.

 

_Way to give yourself away… what screams ‘I slept with a bloke last night!’ more than suddenly loving the touch of all of them, even your bloody brothers… oh, ew…_

 

“Don’t buy a light sofa,” his mother commented walking in from the kitchen, her eyes catching on the catalogue in Ron’s lap.

“I told him that,” Charlie laughed.

 

Ron closed the catalogue before any more comment could be passed. “Anyone else coming today Mum?”

“Just you three,” she shot a glance round at Ron and Charlie, then George, who sat quietly gazing into the fire as though he were trying to unlock a secret from the flames. “Harry and Ginny are away, Bill and Fleur wanted the day to themselves with the children and Percy’s with Audrey’s family.”

“And yet you’ve still cooked enough for the entire lot,” Arthur appeared in the room.

“Well considering I had the three biggest eaters here it seemed sensible,” Molly threw her sons a smile and disappeared again when there was the sound of a pot boiling over from the kitchen.

 

“Everybody telling you how to decorate your flat?” Arthur winked at Ron.

“Oh yeah,” Ron rolled his eyes with a wry smirk. “And you can bet your life if I listen we’ll get three months down the line and they’ll tell me I should have chosen something else.”

“That’s the way this family works,” George commented, having snapped out of his musing and rejoining the conversation. “Or had you forgotten?”

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Ron smiled at him and took a mouthful from his bottle, chucking the catalogue down by his side.

“You’re decidedly cheery,” George looked at him with surprise.  
“It’s called determinedly gritting my teeth and ignoring everything,” Ron grimaced. “Y’know, just because I’ve done moping for three weeks and I’m sick of it.”

“Does get you down,” George’s eyebrow rose in agreement.

 

“If you two are going to get all miserable I’m going,” Charlie announced.

“I’m happy,” Ron said forcedly, and looked down the bottleneck, missing the sad looks the three other men in the room gave him. “It’s Christmas, you should be happy at Christmas.”

“Not when you have nothing to be happy about,” George reasoned.  
“Well, then you find something to be happy about,” Ron sighed, and because they were dangerously close to breaking through the fake wall of happiness, he jumped off the sofa and headed into the kitchen to see if there was anything he could help his mum with.

 

_And give them their chance to talk about me behind my back, like I know they’re dying to… don’t see why they can’t do it when I’m not here…_

 

“Need any help mum?” he set his bottle down on the table and stepped over to the cooker, immediately stirring the first spoon he found in a pan.

“No, nearly done,” she looked at him. “Stop it, phantom stirrer, I am in complete control.”

“Sorry,” Ron immediately dropped the spoon with a grin, remembering how his mother hated people interfering with her cooking preparation. “Smells great.”  


She gave him a warm smile and stepped up to put her arms about his waist. “Such a good lad you are.”

“Who’d have thought it, eh?” Ron rolled his eyes.

“You came from me,” she pulled away with a wink. “How could you not be?”

 

Ron snorted at her familiar response and picked up his drink, ambling slowly to look at the back garden. There was none of the snow down in the south-west that there had been when he’d left Scotland that morning, where the flakes had still been falling at four when Severus had crashed out in his arms and Ron had stayed awake. Even though he had showered, Ron could still find the jasmine in his nose.

 

_Fucking bastarding jasmine. Will not go away._

 

“Are you alright, Ron?” The question floated over to him. “Would you like to stay here tonight?”

Ron swallowed and stayed facing the garden, hiding the sad smile on his face. “No, mum. I’m going home. I have to start treating it as such sometime, right?”

“Christmas night maybe isn’t the best time to do that, though? You’ve had a rough month…”

“I know,” Ron shrugged, watching one of the chickens peck confusedly at the snow. “But life goes on, mum. I’m not going to let this rule me.”

 

He heard the discontented sigh in her throat but was relieved when she merely said, “Well, it looks like dinner’s just about done. Can you set the table?”

 

***

It was odd that their usually large numbers were reduced to just five. Ron knew that had to do with his and Hermione’s break up.

 

_Why on earth would anybody want to come and share a fucking table with me?_

 

Harry and Ginny had booked a break away for Christmas with surprising speed after the failed wedding, and Ron, though he had been hurt, didn’t particularly blame Harry. He understood the amount of turmoil his best friend had been through, and that now that he and Hermione had split, Harry was torn between the two like he had been so many times in their youth.

 

 _And it’s not like I expected him to hang around and wipe my nose for me…_ Ron picked up his wine glass.

  
“Ah ah ah,” Molly scolded. “You can’t drink before we’ve toasted.”  
Ron fought down the urge to roll his eyes and held his drink purposefully. “What are we toasting?”

 

The resonance in his voice made it clear he thought there very little to toast, and he thought of what Severus had said the night before, about not celebrating Christmas because there was very little to celebrate. Despite how miserable he felt about Hermione, and how it should have been _their_ turkey sitting in front of him, Ron felt an urge to leave his family home and let his feet carry him back to Scotland.

 

 _No._ The firm word made him blink. _His choice. This has to be his choice. My name is everywhere, I’m high profile and he needs to think about this._ Even knowing that hadn’t stopped Ron being disappointed when no Patronus had materialised before he’d left for his parents’ house.

 

“What we usually toast: good health, common sense and not burning the turkey,” Arthur gave him a gentle smile and Ron laughed his usual laugh.

 

He raised his glass into the air, muttered, ‘cheers’ and drank, not bothering to clink with anybody at the table. He just wanted the wine. Sparkling, fruity and sweet like it usually was for Christmas Dinner, it felt right. His stomach gave a gurgle as the scent of the food washed over him.

 

“Not yet,” George gave him half a smile. “Got to try these out first.” He pointed to the crackers lying by each plate. “A new invention.”  
“Are they safe?” Charlie asked teasingly.

“Moderately,” George shrugged and picked one up, handing it to his curly haired brother.

“What do they do?” Molly asked with blatant apprehension.

“Fortune telling Christmas Crackers,” George gave a massive tug and there was a loud snap, a puff of glitter (most of which landed in the stuffing) and then a spooky voice emanated across the table.

 

‘Beware the black cat’s scratch; love will come in the form of a winged messenger’.

 

Ron burst into sniggers at the cheesiness and said, “So… which one of you was that for?”

“Charlie has the bigger half, so him,” George waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Winged messenger, eh… sly bugger you are, Charlie…”

“Your turn,” Charlie nodded at Ron who reluctantly snatched up his cracker and thrust it to his right to pull it with his mum.

 

Shifting with the effort whilst pink glitter settled a fine layer across the top of his wine, Ron came away with the bigger half and he boredly waited for what the voice would come up with for him.

 

‘Romance beckons with a dark-haired figure; be prepared to search your soul.’

 

Ron stared at George. “How accurate are these readings?”

“It predicted I’d spill my tea down myself in the shop the other day, but then it also told me I’d spend Christmas in Hawaii. Hit and miss?”

“Bet it’s warm in Hawaii,” Ron rolled his eyes, but inside his heart was fluttering indecently fast.

 

_Dark-haired figure… I… Oh, it’s just a silly bloody cracker, and of course I’m going to fucking soul search, I’ve just been dumped._

 

Ron felt better when the next cracker predicted that Molly would be buying a wedding hat in the near future. With the rest of her children married, and the three at the table desperately single, it seemed the cracker had completely drawn a blank and it made him feel infinitely better about his own prediction.

 

_Whatever happens with Severus…? I can’t ever see it leading to ‘romance’. He’s not the… he doesn’t seem the kind of bloke to tolerate that. So… snippy._

 

“Right, can we bloody eat now?” Charlie whined.  
“Language,” Molly reminded him.

“Mum, please. The youngest at this table is twenty-six,” he shot her a doleful look and pointed at Ron.

“You’re just digging deeper,” Ron speared a roast potato on his fork. “Reminding her of her own age isn’t the way to get your stomach filled.”

 

He ducked sideways as his mother reached to clip him on the ear and they fell to laughing and talking through the meal. Ron ate with unusual slowness, easing his stomach into what he could tell, from the volume of food making the table creak, was going to turn into one of ‘those’ lunches where he ate three rounds willingly and was forced into a fourth and fifth by his mother and sent home with another two in boxes.

 

“Excelled yourself this year, mum,” Charlie sucked up with a wink.

“You say that every year,” she smiled indulgently.  
“It’s the truth,” George sighed, setting down his fork. “You just get better and better…”  
“Is that all you’re eating?” Molly shot him a glare and looked down at his plate.

“I’m full,” George muttered, and picked up his drink.

“You can’t be-”

“Molly,” Arthur said quietly from the opposite end of the table with an authoritative finality.

 

Ron kept his eyes on his food so he wouldn’t see the worried look which, as usual, would pass between his parents and the way his twenty-eight year old brother would blush at the way everyone seemed determined that they knew best for his welfare.

 

Not for the first time that day Ron felt a hurtful pang in his chest for his missing twin brother who would be screaming bloody murder if he could see the wreck his twin had been reduced to. Thinner than ever, George could have passed for anorexic. He kept assuring everybody he wasn’t, and he _did_ eat. It just never seemed to provide him with any kind of nourishment. His skin always had an unhealthy pallor and his eyes were darkened by the loss made worse by the cursed hole on the side of his head. Ron had helped him the best he could, in terms of the joke shop, but when it came to his soul and heart, it just seemed everyone was steadily giving up the longer time went on.

 

 _Which is fucking horrible. He’s one of us and yet none of us can do anything to help him._ Ron felt ill thinking it over, and he had to pause on his intake to let his stomach settle.

  
“Alright?” Charlie looked at him worriedly across the table. “Don’t tell me you as well…” his eyes looked at Ron’s plate. “I’m a big bloke but I can’t manage this all by myself…”

“Pacing myself,” Ron smiled, hopefully convincingly, and continued eating.

 

***

Collapsed, stuffed to the brim and unable to move, Ron groaned at the ceiling of the living room.

 

“If I ever see another potato…”

“You’d save it and eat it when this lot’s gone down,” George snorted.  
“Ah you sod. You know me too well.”

“Mm,” George agreed, where he was looking back into the fire again.

“You’re going to make yourself blind if you keep that up,” Ron told him, thinking the continual glare couldn’t be good for George’s eyes.

 

Not bothering to stifle his yawn, George turned away from the fire and looked at Ron. “You look like shite.”

“Didn’t get any sleep,” Ron murmured, and let his eyes close as he shifted his head on the back of the sofa.

“Why not?”

 

The question hung in the air as Ron thought on how to answer it. “Just couldn’t get off.”

“Sleeping draughts are a beautiful creation.”  
“And get addicted to them like you?” Ron cracked open an eye warily.

“Shh!” George hissed, his pale face growing angry as he snapped his head round to check their mother was nowhere near. “You tell anybody and I swear to God, Ron-”

“Keep your pants on,” Ron sighed. “You know I’ve kept bigger secrets than that.”

 

 _Like the dirty great collection of scars on your arms._ Ron shut his eye again and listened to the fire crackling.

 

There were a multitude of things he kept from his mother’s knowledge concerning George. He knew it was wrong, but it was what his brother wanted. And they didn’t keep it from his therapist who counted.

 

_She would rip my balls off if she knew._

 

“Ron?” George’s quiet voice cut across the living room.

“Yeah?”

“Can I go home with you tonight?”

“Thought you were staying here…”

“I was.”

“You can come if you want but I haven’t got anywhere for you to sleep.”

“Floor’s fine.”

“It is not,” Ron protested half-heartedly.

“I’ll do a cushioning charm if it makes you happy.”

 

Silence fell again and Ron thought how much good it would do George to find a place of his own –it wasn’t as though he didn’t have enough money. But he kept to the poky flat above the shop, or his and Fred’s old bedroom at The Burrow –and neither place did him any good at all.

  
Ron thought of his own new flat and the clean break it awarded him and wished he could convince George to make the same jump. _And pigs might fly…_

 

_If my clean break is his too, then fine._

 

***

“Wow, you really _don’t_ have any furniture, do you?” George looked around the flat.

“Nope,” Ron breathed, carting the food his mother had despatched them with into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s minimalistic.”

“It’s bloody miserable,” George rolled his eyes. “Hey, Ron, what’s this stuff in the corner?”

 

“What stuff?” Ron frowned, closing the door of the fridge and appearing in the open doorway from the small kitchen.

 

George was pointing at box which was by the fire, which they’d both ignored on stepping through the Floo in favour of divesting themselves of everything Molly had packed them off with.

“No idea,” Ron walked up to it and bent down for the note attached to the top, which he pulled off.

 

He unfolded the parchment and his heart shuddered. He was looking at the neat, loopy, undoubtedly girly handwriting he had known since he was eleven, and seen scribbled over a thousand pieces of homework, on loving notes stuck to the fridge, on love letters sent by owl even though there was no point as they’d see each other face to face the next hour...

 

Looking down at Hermione’s handwriting made him want to sick up everything he’d eaten, but he held onto it, at least thinking he should read what she’d said first.

 

_“Ron,_

_Merry Christmas. I know that’s not the right thing to say. For once I’m at a loss of what to say. I hope you are alright. I’ve sent these back to you because they are your favourites and you bought them; they should be rightfully returned to you._

_Hermione.”_

“What does she have to say for herself?” George asked in a quiet voice.

Ron chucked the note at him and dropped onto his knees to open the box, though he already knew what it contained.

 

Hermione had condensed their muggle television, DVD player and several of his films and sent them back to him. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad or not. Wetness pricked in his eyes but he blinked it away, determined he was going to be strong, at least whilst George was there. He got to his feet and pulled out his wand, sending the television to free stand on the floor as he had nothing to rest it on, and put the player on top. He enlarged it to the correct size and plugged them both into the wall of the muggle and therefore electrically fitted flat.

 

“Not bad, this electricity lark, is it?” George looked at him.

“No,” Ron agreed. “Got no idea what the bill is going to be like though.”

“So what are we watching then?” George fell onto his knees and rummaged around the box.

“You choose,” Ron nibbled on his lip. “Back in a sec. Just got to get the girls some dinner.”

 

Peaches and Penelope were splatted against the side of their cage, bellies roughing against the bars, watching them both.  
“Do they miss Hermione?” George asked, looking at them thoughtfully.

“Funnily enough, I think they’re glad she’s gone,” Ron smiled at them slightly. “She would never let them play like they wanted.”

“Well I’m glad you have them,” George said, looking at the DVD box. “What about this one?”

“Ah, that’s kind of… well. Relationships and stuff,” Ron looked at him pleadingly.

“But it’s got ‘hate’ in the title. How can you call a film ’10 Things I Hate About You’ and have it be about love?”

“It’s a good film, I just…” _Watched it with her, all the time, thought about her, loved her…_ “Fine, you set it up and try not to break anything. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

***

“Do you think you could make a list yet?” George asked quietly as Ron clicked off the television with an aching chest.

“I don’t hate her,” Ron muttered miserably.

“Most people would…”

“I’m not going to hate her just because she fell out of love with me,” Ron looked at him. “I wish she’d told me earlier-”

“As in, before you’d put your dress robes on…”  
“Well yeah,” Ron gave him a grin. “But… no, I don’t hate her, George.”  
“I hate her for you,” his brother muttered darkly.

“I’m not up for a slanging session,” Ron groaned, rubbing his hands hard over his face.

“There must be something that you could put to paper to make yourself feel better for being rid of her?”

 

Ron heaved a sigh from his position on the floor, wrapped in a huge hoodie with a rat in each of his sleeves. “I already… well. Lets just say I’m realising things were off for a long time. I notice things I can do now which she always bitched about, little things, like chewing my lip… Didn’t realise quite how whipped I was, to be honest.”

“She was always really bossy… you did mellow her, though. At the beginning.”

 

Ron looked at him questioningly.

 

“Well, I guess like you… now it’s over we all look back and see what signs we missed that it was going awry.”

“What did you miss?”

“How quiet you’d become,” George answered instantly, turning his head to look at Ron. He was lying on his back, body stretched out in front of the television. “You’ve talked more these last few weeks than you have in years… and you’ve been miserable. When you’re back on form you’ll be Ron again, not that any of us could really tell he’d gone. I’m sorry, Ron.”  
“I know you are, but I don’t know why,” Ron gave him a bemused glance. “It was nothing to do with you.”  


“Really?” George raised a miserable eyebrow, and looked away. “I’m… not so sure. I’m sorry, Ron, even if I was the tiniest reason for it.”

“She… well. One of her parting stings was that at times it felt like there were three people in our relationship; me, her and you. But that was bollocks, from my point of view. It’s not like you ever fucking curled up in bed with us.”  
“But I was best friends with your sofa,” George sighed, and then, as so many times before, Ron saw him disappear behind his arm.

 

_Just like I did last night with Severus. Huh. Must be a family hiding trait._

“George,” he sighed softly. “Please God don’t find something else to blame yourself for.” Ron got to his feet and extracted Peaches from his sleeve, pushing her back into the cage with a quick kiss. Penelope followed and Ron shut the cage door, whispering, “Woo, well done, nobody peed on me!”

 

Then he turned back to George on the floor and sat down next to him, giving his brother a nudge in the side. “You alright?”

“Are you?” George’s tone was slightly strangled.

“Better than I thought,” Ron murmured back.

“Good for you,” George obviously meant it but his upset clouded the words.

 

“Look, are we going to waste time on that whole hiding thing? We both know you want a bloody hug so why don’t you just sit up, have it, and then we can go to bed?”

 

Ron had long since stopped asking himself if it were normal to spend as much time as he did hugging his nearly thirty-year-old brother. There was no point in bucking the trend when it was obvious that George was very ill and hurt, and eight years on it was likely he would always be.

 

_She thought it was weird too. And she hated how close we got._

 

Anger flared through Ron that Hermione had been angry with him for spending time and trying to help George heal.

 

“Alright, I’m fine,” George insisted after a minute and pulled away, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“You’re not fine,” Ron rolled his eyes and got to his feet.  
“Well no, I’m not, but I’ve had my instructions from mum…”  
“What?” Ron asked, walking to the bedroom to drag out a blanket and a pillow.

“I’m not to depress you any further than you’re already depressed.”

“Did she actually say that?” Ron reached into a pile of stuff in the corner for the blanket.

“It’s what she meant,” George called back.

 

Ron had lost count of the amount of times George had fallen out with his mother. Whereas George had always been the quieter twin, on Fred’s death it seemed he had ingested some of his fiery spirit and spent around eighty-five percent of his time picking a fight with his mother. They both just wanted the best for each other, but were liable to explode at any minute, seemingly embroiled in a ‘no, I’m mourning him more’ fight which had spanned the years and never faded out.

 

Swallowing the lump in his throat Ron grabbed one of the two pillows off his bed and chucked it with the blanket at George as he walked back into the living room.

 

His flat was interestingly laid out. It was a basement flat and was reached by steps downward off the street, where there was a tiny little paved area with left over pots belonging to the last resident. His front door was beneath the steps leading to the flats above. The door opened straight into the moderately sized living room, and the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom led off it. The kitchen was as big as the living room and held the back door to the shared garden. The bathroom served its purpose and his bedroom was just big enough for his double bed, then a wardrobe and a dresser when he eventually got round to buying them. It was enough for him despite its poky nature.

 

_When I get off my backside and buy some paint I’m sure it’ll look a lot better._

 

“Can you do me a favour?” Ron asked suddenly.

“Want me to go and hex her?” George sighed dramatically.

“No. Save that for the anger phase of healing,” Ron advised. “I’m sure I’ll take you up on it then. No, I was thinking. Can you take the girls for me tomorrow?” He jerked his head at the rats. “I’ve got the time between now and New Year off. Was thinking I could get this place decorated before the furniture comes, and I don’t want them inhaling paint fumes. They’re only ‘ickle.”  
“You’re entirely too protective of them,” George made a face.

“They’re my babies,” Ron scowled. “Will you take them or not? And no feeding them shit again no much how much they beg for cheese and onion crisps.”

“I’ll take them,” George rolled his eyes.

“Thanks. Well. Night. If you get bored with the floor at least try and give me some warning before clambering into bed with me.”

“No chance, you kicked then you were three, I don’t fancy contending with the twenty-six year old Auror upgraded version.”

 

Snorting, Ron gave him a wave and turned back into the bedroom, gently closing the door and then he rested his forehead against the closed wood, shutting his eyes with his fingers still touching the handle.

 

_Okay. So. It sort of worked._

 

He pulled off the door and turned to his bed, sitting down on the edge whilst he kicked off his trainers and looked at the clock.

 

_11:57. What was I doing this time last night at 11:57? Being royally fucked up the arse… Godric…_

 

His crotch sprang to life as he thought it over, but then out of the corner of his eye he saw the perfume bottle sitting there, uncovered by the fact he’d taken the pillow for George. A lump instantly sprang up in his throat and he reached out for it, pulling off the overly decorated bottle cap and raising the spray to his nose.

 

The sweet scent curled into his senses, surprisingly girly for everything else about Hermione that had not been. He had bought her it for her birthday, knowing it was her favourite –a point hammered home by the fact it was December and that had only been four months before and a quarter of the bottle was already gone.

 

 _11:58._ He looked at the clock and focussed on the glowing red display, trying not to let the digits blur.

 

A shiver passed over him and he hugged his arms to his chest, one hand keeping the bottle near his face so the smell wouldn’t leave him.

 

_Why does it smell good? Why does it smell like everything I remember? Shouldn’t it smell like poison now she’s left me? Shouldn’t I hate it; shouldn’t I hate being reminded of her? Fuck…_

_11:59._

He looked at the spray, feeling pathetic for the way he thought that she would have touched that part the most; that her hands, so slight and feminine, had held the bottle so many times she had to be imprinted on it.

 

_I’m just tormenting myself. This has to go down the sink before I drive myself insane. I have to get rid of it._

_12:00. Thank fuck for that._

 

And with that Ron gave up holding back the misery which had been trying to get out of his chest since reading Hermione’s note on top of the items she’d sent, and fell backwards on the bed, tears spilling randomly over his face.

 

 _Well, I didn’t cry on Christmas Day, I at least stayed true to that._   Ron hated to admit that he was crying at all, and it was with a particularly rough wipe that he reached up to swat his tears away. _Why, why am I crying over someone who clearly doesn’t want me?_

He kept his hand over his face and closed his eyes.

 

 _Because you can’t just get over eight years in four orgasms with another man,_ he told himself sternly, thinking back to what he had written in his letter to Severus.

 

_And he didn’t send his Patronus. Maybe he really did just want a one night thing. I shouldn’t set my hopes on him._

 

Ron felt even more ridiculous –by that point he was not only crying because Hermione had left him, but because a man very obviously dealing with his own issues had not responded to one of the two ways Ron had suggested he make contact.

 

_I’m such a fucking idiot. Everything’s a mess and somehow it has to be my fault…they’re saying it’s not, all of them, but I have to have something fucking wrong with me._

Ron didn’t really understand how it could be otherwise. He seemed to get everything wrong so why was his relationship ending not his fault, too? And Severus’ lack of reply would point to something being wrong, as well.

 

“Oh God,” he muttered desperately aloud, pushing his fringe away so it wouldn’t stick to his wet face.

  
“I know what you’re thinking!” George’s voice shouted through the door. “And it’s not your fault. So stop crying and go to bed,” there was a thump on the wood as something was thrown at it. “Loser,” George tacked on affectionately and Ron choked on his laughter.

 

“I’m going,” he sniffed hard and dried his face on the first thing he reached for, which was his t-shirt from the day before which had been left screwed up on the bed.

 

But as he lifted it up to swipe at his cheeks, his nose sunk into the fabric and he was swamped with the scent he’d been trying to forget all day.

 

_Fucking hell it gets everywhere. I can’t have been against him in this for more than twenty minutes… and yet it stinks of fucking jasmine._

 

Stink was the wrong sentiment for the comfort it offered him as he sat there, nose pressed into the material, which along with jasmine was also infused with the smell of whiskey, where he had spilt it, and another earthier scent which must have come from the rooms above the pub, but he had not noticed it at the time.

 

Taking a deep inhale Ron set the shirt down and got up to undress, keeping his eyes on the crumpled material lest it run off whilst he wasn’t looking. Somehow it was better than the perfume.

 

 _Well this is the healthiest thing you could do… not._ He slipped into the bed in his underwear, leaving his clothes where they fell and kicking off the jeans on the bed, but grabbing hold of his t-shirt. The perfume bottle jabbed him in the hip. The shirt shifted on his knee.

 

_Bollocks and fuck to this. He never has to know I slept with a t-shirt that smelt of him and she never has to know I’m sleeping with a stolen bottle of perfume. Whatever helps…_

He reached out and turned off the light and settled down in to the dark.

 

_Fuck. This is lonely._

He closed his eyes, ignoring the fact that at a ratio of eight years to one night, he didn’t know which of them he missed the most.

 

***

Severus finally turned off the light and settled into his bed, cold from the way the fire in the living room had burnt out too quickly and the way the sheets seemed starkly lonely compared to the night before.

 

_Yes… last night where you didn’t fall asleep until four in the morning because of the person occupying them._

Foolishly he turned his head on the pillow, looking at the side that the redhead had adopted as his own in the one night he had laid in the bed, and found himself wishing that he was there once more.

 

_This is ridiculous. One night and he has you drooling for more. Get a bloody hold of yourself…_

Grumpily rolling onto his side, Severus wasn’t even sure why he was surprised that the first person he had allowed through his emotional barriers in years had stayed behind them. Throughout the day he had felt a sensation building in his fingertips, the sensation of almost being able to feel Ron beneath them if he imagined it hard enough.

 

And he also couldn’t help, as he forced his eyes shut, wondering where the redhead was and what he was doing so early on Boxing Day.

 

_Which tells you how dangerous this is.... You have always been a possessive idiot, one night of sex and you’re wondering where he is and what he’s doing and who he is doing it with. Which is, as you bloody well know, none of your business._

He yelled at himself mentally and groaned. A headache had been threatening to come on since the early afternoon and he didn’t have the patience to deal with it. He had forgotten just how quickly headache potion chased off the crashing pain, when he’d taken some the night before. It had been beautiful and easy and made his chest ache for the world of magic he’d deprived himself of for eight years.

 

There was no doubt that he missed it –he would have been a fool to have denied that he did. The wave of a wand and everything was at one’s finger tips; an ease he had forced himself to withdraw from in the name of his privacy.

 

 _Sanity,_ he reasoned mentally.

 

 _Privacy,_ the annoying voice argued.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When it came to it, maybe they were one and the same where he was concerned. Severus threw himself onto his back, making the bed rock and squeak, which sent his mind back to Ron again and the way the redhead had so willingly bent for him, grabbed the headboard and submitted to every touch Severus had wished to place on his body.

 

_In my day they called that desperate… but I don’t think it was that… he just craved to be touched. Craving affection does not make you desperate…_

 

He looked up at the ceiling, maddened that sleep was evading him. His hand moved into the pyjama bottoms without him really considering his actions. His fingers caressed his shaft with delicate softness. Most definitely experienced in the art of masturbation in inducing slumber, the only change that night would be in who he thought of as he touched himself.

 

He winced as a filthy image of just how far Ron’s legs might be able to spread crossed his mind.

 

When they then wrapped around his waist and he felt hot lips on his, he gave himself over to fantasy.


	4. Chapter 4

> _Fuck… running doesn’t appear to be working._

 

Ron panted through the burn in his legs and forced himself to keep up his pace, shooting a glance at his watch as he pounded through the relatively quiet pathways of the park. In his ears the loud thrashing of music had been intended to drive all possibility of thought out of his mind but just like the running, it didn’t appear to have been successful.

 

He hated jogging. Really, truly hated it, especially the way sweat poured off him for everybody else to see as it clung to his torso and stained through his clothes. But to be an Auror he had to keep up a high level of physical fitness and whilst he loathed banging along London streets, he hated the scary gym at the Auror HQ far, far more.

 

_But it’s not… stopping… me… thinking… gaaaaaaaaaaaaah!_

Ron slowed to a halt and bent over, dropping his hands onto his knees as he looked down at the concrete. His breath caught up with him in tight gusts and he knew his hair was plastered to his head in an unflattering mop of sweaty redness, clashing hideously with his flushed face.

 

Resolutely he straightened and set off again, knowing to stop dead in the middle of the park would be mad as his muscles would stiffen and he’d be limping all the way home. He fell into time with the beats in his ears.

 

 _Hate it. Hate it. Hate it._ The words crashed over the music making up his own song.

 

_Why hasn’t he written?_

Ron spat somewhat viciously on the ground as he ran, clenching his hands into tight fists.

 

_And I wonder what he’d think if he knew what I did on New Year’s Eve?_

He flushed even redder when his mind threw that at him. New Year’s Eve had not been a good one, by any standards, but Ron didn’t really see how anyone could ever have expected it to have been. He had been out, alone, drinking, met somebody and ended up going home with them, having to partake in the New Year’s Day Walk of Shame: the slow, steady creep of the hungover back to their own homes from those which they had spent the night.

 

_And never mind that he was a he. Bah, fuck it._

Ron slowed coming out of the park and was in luck. He walked the few short stops to the bus stop and threw his arm out for the oncoming double decker. Two minutes later he was comfortably seated stinking out the back seat with the physical fruits of his labour.

 

_I’m a lazy fucking hobo and Kingsley would have my arse if he knew his Senior Auror was getting the bus home from a fucking run…_

He looked determinedly out of the window at the passing people and shops. The man he’d been with had been muggle, fairly attractive, a bit shorter, blue eyes. Shamefully, that was all Ron could really remember other than one crucial fact.

 

_It wasn’t half as good as it was with Severus. Fuck._

 

Ron glared down the aisle of the bus and folded his arms sulkily over his chest.

 

_Maybe not even as quarter as good._

His eyes caught sight of one of the muggle sex shop chains and it did nothing to get his mind off its train of thought.

 

_What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never been out and picked somebody up in my fucking life. Let alone a fucking man. One night with a bloke and I’m a shirt-lifter now?_

He squeezed his eyes shut and unknowingly let out an infuriated growl. An elderly lady edged away from him and he saw her worried looks when he re-opened his eyelids to the world. He mouthed his apologies and looked dejectedly out of the window, reaching up to rub some of the sweat off his forehead. The thrum of the engine below him reverberated in his belly and a sick ache developed there. He reached for the bell and the bus stopped almost immediately and he got off, despite the fact he was still streets away from the flat.

 

Thanking the driver he stepped onto the pavement and tripped along the concrete, his limbs feeling heavy and loose all at once as the cold January air assaulted him. He was looking forward to a long hot shower and then dreading an afternoon studying for his annual performance review at work.

 

He had decorated the flat and it was, as he’d expected, much more satisfying to live in. His mother had been most impressed with his decorative skills and the furniture he’d picked out, even if the light sofa was still a point of contention. Ron had charmed it with every protective spell he could think of, and tested his work by chucking a glass of cherryade at it. The sofa was fine, but there was a blurry pinkish stain on the floorboards.

 

 _Must remember to look into spells to distress the floor…_ He’d taken great pleasure in ripping up the old carpet which had been in the flat. It was somewhat like peeling off skin and it satisfied him greatly to tug it up with the intention of throwing it away, possibly because it was wanted to do to himself to start all over again.

 

And then, as Charlie had put it, his beach house in the middle of London had been complete with the addition of several rag rugs and all the white distressed furniture.

 

_And have to remember to do the inside of the fireplace._

 

If Ron was being obsessive, he didn’t care. Attacking his flat had given him the release he needed and the means with which to keep his brain occupied from moping over his failed relationship. To that end he now had pale blue walls, a pretty tiled mosaic border in the bathroom with a new suite and a wonderfully tranquil turquoise bedroom. Blue was the prevailing colour scheme, not because he was depressed but because he genuinely found it calming.

 

He sped up his pace to keep his legs loosened until he could get home and stretch them and reached to turn down the volume on his player. Free and complimentary, of course, seeing as he knew the creator –if he ever left the Auror force he would miss all his well placed contacts.

 

_But would I really, if I had something better than free stuff?!_

He brooded on that and wondered where his love of the job had gone. At twenty there had been nothing he enjoyed more than going to work. At twenty-six it seemed nothing more than the chore he had insisted it would never become. Maybe it had just been the empty words of youth but he really had been sure he would love his job forever.

 

_And the money, don’t forget the money._

 

He couldn’t deny it was helpful. He had learned on the first day back after the Christmas holiday that his yearly bonus was huge. One might say massive –it was more than enough to replace at least half of what he’d lost on the wedding. And apart from buying dinner from the slightly more expensive muggle supermarket, he’d done nothing with it bar stick it in the bank and let it earn him interest for the two days it had been in his possession.

 

_Shite, I’ve got boring in my old age. What happened to the Ron who would get paid and blow half of it in an afternoon?_

He looked at the cars parked along the road as he walked down the quieter streets leading towards his flat. A smile curved up his lips remembering how angry Hermione had gotten every time he had done that, assuming he’d been stupid enough to not keep back enough for the rent, food and bills. Ron had never been that thoughtless. Growing up without money had instilled in him the sense to make sure all the necessary outgoings were covered before he spent the rest of it. It was lucky that being an Auror came with such a high pay packet.

 

It didn’t surprise him he was already home as he turned into the corner of his road; he’d always been a fast walker when deep in thought. Shivering slightly, he approached the gate as a figure jogged down the steps from the top flats.

 

“Basement flat?” the postman asked boredly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Ron tugged the headphones out of his ears, but the postal worker said nothing else, merely shoved a letter into Ron’s hand and walked away, rummaging in his red and yellow bag.

 

Ron swallowed and looked down at the letter, slightly bent in the corner. The spidery dark handwriting made him blink, and then he was sure his eyes must have widened comically as realisation set in.

 

_Oh… fuck!!!_

He jumped the small gate which closed off the steps down to his flat and jogged down them, the headphones trailing behind him on the concrete as he fumbled for the keys. He barrelled into the flat dropping the keys on the floor as he tore into the envelope and kicked the door shut behind him. He tugged out the note, heart thudding inexplicably hard. Sapphire eyes skated over the words desperately.

 

“Fuck yeah!” He grinned and re-read it a second time.

 

_Doesn’t sound particularly bothered though… but then it’s Snape. He never really did sound bothered about anything… except when I was sucking his cock of course._

He shivered with delight at the memory and folded the letter back up, crossing to the bookcase and slipping it into the first he found which just so happened to be his copy of the Official Auror Conduct Guidelines.

 

_Well fuck studying. I’m getting me to Scotland._

 

Ron didn’t care how eager it made him look that he was high-tailing to Scotland the second the letter had arrived, and he dove for the bedroom, but then caught sight of himself in the mirror.

 

Huge sweat patches blossomed beneath his arms and from his neckline and his hair was plastered down as he had expected. He looked awful.

 

_Alright, shower first, then Scotland._

_Scotland and a fuck, hopefully._

_Or a blow job._

_Maybe both?_

_I am *too* excited._

Ron stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor of the bathroom, reaching out to turn the freestanding shower on, springing back so the first run of cold water didn’t drench him. Whilst he waited for it to heat he performed a few stretches on his muscles glad nobody was around to watch him doing them in the buff, especially when he nearly kicked himself in the eye with his own knee.

 

_He doesn’t know just how bendy I am yet._

With that Ron jumped into the water and delighted in the feel of it carrying away the salty expulsions of his morning’s exercise, feeling cleaner with every passing second.

 

He was washing his hair when a thought struck him.

 

_I should go to the Alley and get him some stuff, more headache Potion for one. And maybe some obviously magical stuff he might have missed._

 

Ron didn’t know if his plan would be appreciated, what with the way Severus had seemed determined he would be living a muggle life even if Ron were to visit him again.

 

_A headache potion isn’t going to kill him, though, it’ll just help. And he can always say no to me if he really doesn’t want it._

 

Reaching for the shower gel Ron was glad that he was out of sight of the mirror. The stupidly big grin on his face would only have confused him as to just what the hell was going on his brain and heart.

 

***

Ron left the stinking Apothecary glad to get out of the stench which was contained in its walls. He hoped none of it had clung to his hair and clothes –rotting eggs wasn’t really the scent he was going for. Shutting the zipper on his bag he returned his hands to his pockets, regretting, like usual, the fact that he’d left his gloves behind in the flat. He was absolutely rubbish at remembering to take gloves anywhere and he lost them serially, resulting in a bizarre trail of dropped gloves which lay hidden across the United Kingdom, he was sure. Hermione had forever been moaning at him about it.

 

_Oh, shit and fuck. Think of the devil and she shall appear…_

 

Ron froze as he caught sight of curly, bushy hair and a slim, svelte body dressed neatly in her work robes. He could almost smell them as he watched her, even though she was four shops away. It was the first time he had seen her since the day she had left him and he wasn’t prepared for the sledgehammer which flew from nowhere and hit into his chest. He blinked a few times in shock and took an automatic step backwards, but it didn’t matter. She’d already seen him.

 

Hermione’s mouth fell open in an undignified ‘o’ shape and Ron narrowed his eyes involuntarily. Faced with the woman he’d loved for eight years he couldn’t help the bitterness which surged through his body. She walked towards him and Ron knew he had no escape from _that_ moment he’d been subconsciously dreading.

 

“Hello,” she said softly, her brown eyes concerned.

“Don’t ask me how I am,” Ron muttered through gritted teeth, pre-empting her next question.

“You look well,” Hermione’s eyes turned confused then, and Ron swallowed, thinking of the way he’d spent a good amount of time grooming and carefully selecting, not to mention ironing, his clothes before leaving for the Alley.

“Good, couldn’t give the world the impression I was heartbroken, could we?”

“Don’t be like this,” she pleaded with him. “I just… did you get the television and everything I sent.”

“Yes,” Ron’s teeth were still gritted and his jaw had begun to ache with the tension. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, they were yours,” her cheeks flushed red.

 

 _This is the point where you admit the perfume…_ Ron batted that thought away and defiantly broadened his shoulders.

“I’m fine.”

“How was your Christmas?”

“Quiet, with Mum and Dad. Yours?”

 

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but then there was a call and her face flushed the hideous shade of magenta Ron recognised from whenever Hermione had been caught red handed in an embarrassing situation.

 

If he had felt bitterness before, it was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compared to what roared in his belly when a tall, well dressed man appeared behind Hermione and put what was obviously a caring hand on her shoulder. “Here you are, love…”

 

_Love?_

“Moved on already, I see?” Ron managed to choke out.

 

_Why shouldn’t she have? She didn’t love me. She must have been ready to dump me for months._

 

“Ron, I don’t-”

 

Ron swept his eyes over the tall figure with his hand on Hermione’s shoulder. With a jolt he realised that it was her supervisor within the ministry, where she worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was at least ten years her senior.

 

“How long?” Ron asked quietly, even though he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Ron, please, look… this isn’t the place for this, we should-”

“I have plans this afternoon. I don’t intend to spend more than five seconds in your company _ever_ again, ‘Mione,” he couldn’t help the use of his affectionate name shortening, it rolled off his name like silk. “So tell me now, how long has this been going on?”

 

Her eyes widened and then closed whilst her colour heightened. “About a year.”

 

_Oh wow, way to kick me straight in the fucking gonads. Fuck._

“A _year_?” he repeated in a breathy gust of air. “A _fucking_ year? Oh, God.”

 

He turned around and walked away, glad of his thick coat because his body temperature had just taken a ten degree dip, it seemed.

 

 _A year, a fucking year. She was… with him… and with… oh fuck me._ He rounded the corner, glad to be out of her sight, but it only served to thicken his throat and make his eyes burn.

 

He found himself faced with Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and blinked at the garish colours. The sign was flicked to open which meant his brother was in and working and he would be there with a cup of tea and open arms if Ron wanted them.

 

The bag he carried weighed heavy around his torso, the strap cutting into his collarbone through his coat, so full of gifts from the magical world for the man who had been away from it for so long. Ron coughed through his burning throat and headed for the nearest apparition point, blinking away unruly tears.

 

***

 

Scotland was colder than London and Ron shivered as he made his way down the icy pavement to the pub. The village was as quiet as it had been when he had last been there but looked no less picturesque for the lack of snow. He could see mountains in the distance and felt the icy blow of sea wind from an easterly direction. With a certain amount of trepidation he approached the pub door again, realising he had sent no prior word to Severus to warn him of his arrival. If the man wasn’t there, Ron was fairly sure it would shatter the little sliver of dignity he was clinging on to.

 

Stepping inside, he found the warm, yeasty smell exactly the same. He looked into the corner and found his unfortunate adversary of the Christmas tree gone, the space filled with a table under the window. The pub was empty which didn’t particularly surprise him –it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday and most people would be working.

 

“Afternoon, what can I get you?” A woman spoke and he looked at her, wondering if she was Severus’ cousin.

“I, uh… I’m here to see…” _Fuck? Severus? Mr. Snape… Godric that’s weird._ “Oh, him!”

 

Ron was saved from deciding what to call the man because Severus, at that point, walked out from the back room. They stared at each other for a moment before Ron let his nervous smile break onto his face and raised his hand in a pointless wave.

 

“Since when do you have visitors?” the woman raised an eyebrow and looked at Severus, who Ron had thought had frozen.

 

But the man took a step forward, inclining his head to the back room to Ron whilst speaking to the woman. “Are you alright on your own for a while?”

“No, the thriving business is too much for me to handle,” the woman shot back sarcastically with an eye over the empty seats. “I’m going to shut and go back to the horses. See you tonight.”

 

Ron heard no more as he walked carefully up the stairs and ducked into the living room. It looked much the same as it had the last time he had visited and his eyes crept into the bedroom remembering all the wonderful things that had happened in there. He stepped closer to the fire and appreciated the first warmth he’d had since his shower five hours before. He heard the door close quietly behind him and he spun round to look at Severus, suddenly nervous and fluttery.

 

“Please, sit,” Severus gestured to the sofa and raised his eyes to meet Ron’s.

 

“I, um…” Ron struggled for words to say and then awkwardly stepped forward and gave the man a swift hug. The body he held was stiff in his arms and he immediately stepped away, colour burning into his cheeks at his mistake. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and reached up to undo the collar of his coat.

 

A hand caught his and Ron looked into onyx eyes once more and felt the tension trying to seep out of his skin. There was clearly something about Severus Snape which made him relax, though he couldn’t say what.

 

_And that’s fucking weird because I never relaxed around him at school… I didn’t want to…_

 

“Apologies, I did not expect you to do that…” Severus spoke quietly, still holding onto Ron’s hand.

Ron gave him another smile and shrugged. “I just… well. How are you?”

“Not much different to the last time you saw me,” Severus gave him the dull answer and stepped away, gently releasing the hand.

 

Undoing his coat, Ron felt the backs of his legs tingling with the warmth of the fire. “God, it’s so cold everywhere.”

“It’s January,” Severus rolled his eyes and looked at him.

“I know but still…” Ron’s body physically shuddered as he yanked his bag over his head and set it on the floor, then shrugged out of his coat. “Um?” He wished he could feel less awkward as he looked around for somewhere to place it, but every move he made seemed stupidly clumsy compared to the grace of his companion.

 

Their hands brushed as Severus took the coat from him and hooked it onto the back of the door he had closed. Ron stooped and picked up his bag but when he stood again, he was aware of Severus looking over him, at the fitted deep blue jeans he’d chosen, and charcoal grey fine-knit jumper with the sleeves pushed up to three quarter length. But he said nothing and walked to the sofa, where he sat.

  
“I went… well. I got your letter,” Ron said pointlessly. “Which I guess you know because I’m here.”

“I’m glad it arrived,” Severus gave him what might have been a small smile and Ron took heart.

“Well, I just thought… as I’m connected and you’re not, you might like some stuff…”

 

He walked over and sat down next to him and fumbled with the zip on his bag.

 

_He might get rid of my tension but he makes me a fucking nervous wreck!_

 

“I went and got you some of this, remembering what you said about the headaches. That stuff I gave you won’t last long, so…” Ron handed over a bag containing a better, bigger version of headache painkiller. “And this, because everybody knows muggles can’t make chocolate for shit, and I thought if you’re not well sometimes you should probably have a supply up here…”

 

He placed three huge bars of Honeydukes’ chocolate in Severus’ lap and then delved back into the bag again. “And this is for your bed, actually, because it gets pretty cold in there and if you won’t use charms to heat it up you’ve got to have something or you’ll freeze…”

 

Ron pulled out the heavy blanket condensed into a tight bundle. “It’s charmed to keep the heat in. They’re a fucking life saver, the amount of times I’ve spent in tents huddled under these.”

 

Ron stopped then, because Severus was looking at him with a staggered expression and he flushed under the scrutiny. “What?”

“You did not have to do all this, I told you before, I do not want to be your charity case.”  
“You’re not!” Ron frowned. “I just thought as I was visiting I’d bring you some gifts… my mum always told me it was rude to turn up as a guest without gifts and so here I am.”

“I cannot accept these,” Severus told him quietly.

“Yes you can, don’t be daft.”

“I do not have the means with which to repay you.”

 

Ron couldn’t stop his eye roll even though he knew it was rude. “You’ve been out of the magical world for eight years, not your mind, Severus. Surely you remember the definition of the word ‘gift’?”

 

One black eyebrow rose and Ron flinched, knowing he’d been too quick mouthed, but was surprised when there was a slight smirk before Severus spoke again.

  
“I suppose I do. Thank you.”

“And I had to go through something bloody painful to get them so you’d bloody better be grateful,” Ron muttered as an aside and got to his feet again, inching closer to the fire to try and leech some more warmth.

 

“What are you talking about?” Severus questioned him and Ron heard the bag open to inspect the potion, which meant his gifts had been accepted.

“Hermione,” Ron exhaled hard through his lips, so hard he made the flames bat in the grate. “I saw her for the first time in the Alley getting the stuff.”  
“Oh?”

“With her new… partner,” the bitterness surged again.

“I’m sorry, Ron…”  
“You think that’s bad,” Ron snorted and turned around to look at Severus. “I just found she’d been seeing him for a whole year behind my back. He’s her fucking boss in the Ministry.”

 

They held each others’ gazes until Ron dropped his eyes miserably to the carpet and heaved another sigh.

“I am sorry that it was your endeavour to bring me these which led you to that… unpleasant experience,” Severus said softly. “I am grateful for them but I wish you had been spared the details.”

 

“You and me both,” Ron shrugged and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “But hey, so what, right? She’s over me… fair enough, she didn’t love me.”

“And you?”

 

The question hovered in the air and Ron hated how it sent a shiver down his spine; just as he had experienced on Christmas Eve, and the rest of the years Ron had known him, Severus retained the ability to put a question into the ether which made him feel completely incompetent.

 

“Well, I reckon I can safely chuck the bottle of her perfume I’ve been sleeping with down the drain,” Ron smiled and rubbed one boot nervously against the other.

 

Severus said nothing to that but got to his feet. “Why did you come? Surely you would have been better off going home to grieve?”  
“Nobody’s dead,” Ron shrugged.

“Your relationship is and one generally tends to mourn it just like a death,” Severus set the items he held down on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything?”

 

“No,” Ron shook his head and looked up with a smile.

“You look perished, not even tea?”

“Alright, maybe tea,” Ron nodded, stretching his arms out behind him and cracking his fingers in the process as they locked at the height of the stretch.

 

Severus watched him with the same quietness as before but that time Ron managed to keep his colouring under control, though it nearly flew out the window when Severus stepped forward and put his hands on Ron’s shoulders.

  
“I do not think you really know why you are here. And I do not either. But I’m glad you are.”

 

And then Ron was in an embrace he expected even less than the heartfelt words, and he was swamped with the intoxicating scent of jasmine once more.

 

_Oh fuck. I’m a goner. It smells so fucking good._

 

“Are you sniffing me?” Severus’ voice was a little incredulous.

 

 _Shit, was I?_ Ron swallowed and said, “Erm… dunno. Probably.”

“Why?”

“Do you ever shut up asking questions?” Ron bristled teasingly.

“No.”

“If I _was_ smelling you it was because I haven’t been able to get the fucking smell of your hair out of my head for a week,” Ron breathed, and then nosed at it slightly, easily managed with the position of his head. “It’s just so… mmm, Merlin,” he groaned slightly. “Why, Snape, why do you smell like jasmine?”

“Shampoo.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You asked, I told you the truth, I think in many circles that equals an answer…”

“Alright then, if you want to be bloody pedantic about it,” Ron growled. “Why are you using a shampoo that makes you smell of highly feminine jasmine flowers?”

 

“Does it bother you?”

“You can’t answer my question with a question.”

“Yes, I can.”

 

“Have you always been this bloody annoying?” Ron smiled into the hair, enjoying the feel of Severus’ hands on his back.

“Probably. I certainly annoyed you at Hogwarts.”

“Well all of the teachers annoyed me there, don’t award yourself any specialities.”  
“Oh, you wound me so.”

Ron could almost see the roll of his eyes even though he was facing the opposite way. He grinned and pulled back.

 

“You’re smiling, I see,” Severus let his eyebrow rise again. “Considering the morning you’ve had I will swell with pride at my ability to provoke that out of you.” His sarcasm rang through the room.  
“Yeah my morning was shit,” Ron nodded in agreement. “My run fucking sucked too.”  
“Your language is… did you say _run_?”

 

Ron nodded. “I have to keep fit for work, if I fail the fitness tests it’s a desk job for me.” He swiped a finger across his throat with a wink.

“So you… run… in public…”

“Is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

 

Ron didn’t see Severus’ slightly dazed smile as the man turned away from him and descended the stairs for the forgotten tea.

 

He didn’t know the thoughts swirling around the injured mind of sweaty redheads, showers and discarded clothes.

 

***

“No, you quickly learn not to piss my mum off,” Ron took a deep mouthful of tea. “Bellatrix Lestrange learnt that the hard way.”

 

Severus looked at him apprehensively at the mention of the crazed Death Eater.

“Sorry,” Ron flushed. “I just… we’re all so used to talking about it in conversation it’s hard to turn it off just because I’m with you, you know?”

“I understand. What did your mum do to Bella?”

Ron flinched, it was odd hearing Severus use the shortened version of the evil witch’s name, but he glossed over it, remembering how well Severus had played his part –he couldn’t be blamed if he had picked up shortened, affectionate names and used them even when he no longer had to. “My mum killed her.”  
“ _Your_ mother killed Bellatrix Lestrange?!” Severus’ eyes flew wide, suddenly sitting up ramrod straight on the sofa where they had both begun to slouch as they relaxed around each other.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “I didn’t see it. I was sort of busy bringing down that fucking Greyback bastard with Neville at the time, but Harry tells me it was top notch entertainment. He loves to tease her about it. At one point she was proper screeching ‘not my daughter you bitch!’ She went after Gin, see…”

 

“ _You_ brought down Fenrir Greyback?” Severus’ voice was no stronger than the first time he had spoken. “You and Longbottom?”

“Yeah, fucking bastard was snapping at us both right until the end, nearly got me as well,” Ron shuddered involuntarily. “Mum nearly had two half-werewolves to care for. But no. He went eventually.”

 

“You certainly have enough medals for your own chest without the Auror career,” Severus commented and took a mouthful of tea to try and get some normality back into his body.

“Pffft,” Ron shrugged. “I did what I had to do to get through it, everyone did. Would any of us have done that without the threat of him? No.”

 

Severus looked thoughtfully into the fire and said no more, leaving Ron tapping his fingernail nervously on the mug he held. He craned his neck to look to the window and saw that the sky was beginning to darken. “God, time goes so fast…”

“It always seems so when you’re young,” Severus didn’t look at him.

“Well, that wasn’t patronising in the least.”

 

Ron wasn’t quite sure how to act around Severus the second time round. He’d been laughing at his humour for the past two hours but Ron really didn’t know if it was welcome or not. And they’d just ended up on the subject of the war and now Severus had obviously withdrawn upon himself.

“It was not intended to be,” Severus looked at him with one side of his mouth up in a tight if lopsided smile.  
“I know,” Ron shook his head and yawned.

  
“How long are you…?” Severus had been going to finish that with ‘going to stay’ but it made it sound too sordid, even for him.

“Well… I don’t know,” Ron licked his lips. “I need to be off by seven if I want to use the official apparition points. I want to go home tonight…”

“You may stay again if you wish?”

“I have work in the morning,” Ron said apologetically. “I work on a day on/day off rota at the minute. I should be studying for my review but, well… then I got your letter.”  
“Don’t get yourself sacked and blame it on me,” Severus warned him. “You would soon find yourself unwelcome.”

 

Ron snorted with laughter and set his mug down on the coffee table. “Nah, its fine. I was already ahead, I didn’t have much to do over Christmas week anyway. Apart from decorating the flat.”

“Do you have any furniture yet?” Severus asked with amused eyes.

“Yes!” Ron said proudly. “And it’s stuff that I like, as well, nobody else’s bloody opinion at all.”  
“It sounds like you have successfully begun making a new life for yourself,” Severus commented and gave him a warm smile.

“Mm,” Ron agreed, raising his eyebrows a little. “It feels a bit more like home now and there’s somewhere for George to sleep when he needs it.”

 

“Why would he need to sleep at your flat?” Severus asked, confused.

“Oh,” Ron made a face. “He’s... my roommate more often than he’s not, if that makes sense. He has no where that doesn’t remind him of Fred and he’s just so… sad. I can never say no to him. It never occurs to me to say no to him.”

“Granger must have found that hard?”

“She bitched about it enough, so I suppose so,” Ron shrugged. “But then she knew me, knew my family… if she thought I would turn my back on one of them as in need as George was she didn’t know me half as well as I hoped.”

 

Ron coloured under Severus’ gaze then, surprised at the intensity with which the dark eyes fixed on his face.

“You care for your brother very much,” Severus said softly.

“Yes,” Ron answered honestly. “And just like I would have done for Harry, I would do anything for him.”

“You are oddly loyal,” the observation stung Ron and he didn’t know why.

“Why oddly?”

“Well, you have to understand that I only have experience of loyalty from deranged devotion,” Severus reminded him. “But you seem so pure. Once I’d imagine that would have made me want to run to the nearest lavatory.”

 

“And now?” Ron looked down at his mug. “Because if you can’t accept how I feel about my family, Severus, then I might as well leave right now…”

 

“Why are you here?” Severus swallowed nervously. “Did you just come for the small talk and tea, or did you want more of the other night?”

“I came for the small talk, tea and biscuits,” Ron still looked down at his hands. “I… the first night was great, but if that isn’t what you want then I understand that.”

“You should have mentioned the biscuits,” Severus gave a tut and made to get up but Ron laughed and grabbed his arm.

“I’m just joking, Snape, seriously.”

 

“You keep slipping my surname into sentences,” Severus told him.

“Habit of a lifetime, I’m really sorry,” Ron grinned. “I even think it sometimes.”  
“You’ve been thinking about me?” Severus hitched up an eyebrow.

 

Ron looked at him then with a completely honest face and breathed, “I haven’t fucking _stopped_ thinking about you, Severus. Or what we did.”

 

“That would make two of us then,” was the clipped reply.

 

 _Oh Godric he’s sitting there and I just want to chuck this mug on the floor and all I want to do is jump him…_ Ron felt a stirring in his groin at the very thought.

 

“Severus?” He whispered, not daring to raise his eyes.

“Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

 

 Ron was forced to look up when the mug was tugged out of his hands, and then Severus was leaning over him, placing his hands on either side of Ron’s torso. There was a wave of rolling jasmine scent and then he was being kissed, his lips forced apart by a determined tongue and he groaned in pleasure, his cock springing completely to attention in his jeans.

 

“No, because I beat you to it,” Severus whispered, barely pulling away from Ron’s lips. “I have thought of nothing else for a week.”

“Oh thank God,” Ron closed his eyes and threw his hands around the man’s back. “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we did…”

 

Ron was too busy babbling to notice that Severus had turned properly and crawled so that he properly towered over his body. Finally taking the hint, Ron wriggled south and stretched out, reclining his back so he leant on the arm of the chair. He hissed as Severus’ weight settled down on top of him and his cock was pressured by a firm backside.

 

“W-what did you think of?” Ron stammered, reaching up his hands to sink them into Severus’ hair.

“You,” Severus answered, ducking his head to kiss down Ron’s neck. “And the way you submitted to me and kissed me…”  
“And came for you?” Ron breathed, almost groaning at the sensation of the lips on his neck.

“And that,” Severus sat back up again. “Look, we should-”

 

He made eyes at the bedroom and Ron nearly passed out with anticipation.

“Look at that,” he smiled teasingly. “You have ‘come to bed’ eyes.”

“I assure you I do not,” Severus reached down in between them to palm Ron’s crotch. “And anyway, as if I would need them, you seem to be willing enough as it is.”  
“I am so willing I’m going to explode right here and now if you keep that up,” Ron tilted his head back and hissed the words through clenched teeth. “Fuck.”

 

Severus swallowed what was sure to be an embarrassing gasp as he looked at the outline of Ron’s throat and the way his chest moved beneath the fine jumper.

“You look delicious,” he assured him.

“Good, I intended to,” Ron smirked, but it melted into a gasp when his nipples were assaulted with cool fingers.

“You mean that you made an effort, just for me?” Severus gave them a gentle twist.

“Y-yeah,” Ron stammered.

 

Fingers squeezed tighter and then Ron moaned at the pain which sent odd little spikes of lust down to his dick and made it harder. He had never understood pain for pleasure but if Severus kept up he knew he would be well on his way.

 

“Stop,” he gasped finally, shifting his hips around in a full circle as the passion threatened to burst out of him in waves.

“Did you like that?” Severus asked in a devilishly low voice next to Ron’s ear.

“Fucking loved it,” Ron was aware that his voice had crept up in pitch and that he sounded desperate.

 

_Fuck it, I am fucking desperate and I have been ever since I last touched him. Fuck._

“Get in the bedroom, now,” the hiss was low but Ron heard it perfectly, and he flew off the sofa when Severus removed his body weight, heading for the bedroom.

 

He kicked off his boots and immediately tugged at his jumper, managing to get it halfway off before Severus’ mouth assaulted him, clamping down over one of the nipples he had just been abusing. Ron’s scream was muffled because his head was stuck inside his jumper, but there was no doubt of his appreciation when teeth bit into the molested nub and a tongue flicked out to lick what was trapped.

 

Ron had never known before _just_ how much sensation could come from one body part as Severus refused to let his nipple go, but soon he was keening, begging for release and leaking a sticky trail in his underwear.

  
“I’m serious if you don’t stop I’m going to come,” he panted, and was relieved when Severus released him and allowed him to remove his jumper entirely.

“I thought we established last time that such an occurrence would not be a problem?” Severus muttered to him silkily, pulling him into a tight embrace which met their cocks together with indecent rapturous moans from them both.

 

Ron rolled his hips and was pleased to evoke a groan of his own creation from Severus, and then he knew what he wanted to do.

“On the bed,” he turned Severus as he spoke, and pushed him to sit on the edge of the mattress. Pulling out his wand Ron sent cleaning spells at both of them, missing the dirty wetness of the mess he had already produced in his pants.

 

_Sometimes that feels just as good as you know what’s coming…_

 

He grinned dirtily and dropped to his knees in between Severus’ legs. “You didn’t let me do this last time. Now it’s my turn.”  
“I have never been so utterly compelled to invite someone to be my guest,” Severus’ hands flitted over his trousers and undid them lifting his hips slightly to work them down.

 

Ron took over then, springing forward and peeling down black underwear to revel the erection just as he remembered it from before. He wasted no time in looking, however –he moved forward, slipped his lips over the tip and began licking.

 

A hand landed in his hair and massaged his scalp and Ron flicked out with his tongue, pushing aside foreskin and searching for the part which had really made him lose control. He felt odd being so new to the whole practice of pleasuring another man, but from the steady stream of hissed invective coming from above him, Ron was pretty sure he was doing it right purely from the way Severus’ teeth were so clenched with tension.

 

He broke off for a moment to rest his jaw and looked up from under his fringe, tasting saltiness on his lips.

  
“What did I warn you about doing that?” Severus breathed, closing his eyes. “About looking so fuckable?”  
“Do you want to fuck me?” the low huskiness of Ron’s voice surprised even him; his voice turned a pleasing deep baritone he had never heard before.

 

There was a growl and then he went flying backwards onto the floor and Severus’ weight was on top of him again.

“But I didn’t finish youmph-”

 

He was cut off by a smouldering kiss as the talented hands he’d dreamt of for a week ran riot over the skin of his torso, smoothing over the planes of muscles and teasing at the hair leading into his jeans. “If you want me,” Ron panted. “Just flip me over and fuck me, Severus, why wait? We both clearly want this…”

 

Severus let out another snarl at the words and then Ron felt his hips gripped in a fierce fingerspan,

 

 _When did he even open my fucking jeans?!_ Ron marvelled as they slid down his thighs and his underwear was dragged unceremoniously with them. _Man’s a fucking wizard… oh, wait…_

“Holy fuck!” Ron’s cry rent the room as his cock was engulfed in searing wet heat for a single stroke and then he was being flipped, his jeans tangled around his feet. And then there were fingers running down his crease, gently touching the largely undiscovered skin and he whined in delight. “Please, fuck… don’tfuckingstopSeverussss.”

“I don’t intend to stop,” Severus informed him, and then Ron jerked forward as something very definitely wet ghosted over his entrance, probing and licking with tiny, precise movements.

 

“Shit and fuck are you…” Ron’s eyes rolled back in his head at the thought that anyone would want to pleasure him enough to lick him _there._

“Do you like that?” Severus’ voice rumbled up to him, hot breath drenching the sensitive skin.

“I… fuck…”  
“Shall I take that as a yes?” Severus swiped his tongue again and Ron choked a reply. “I haven’t got the patience for the spell,” he added and then Ron felt a gloriously slick finger pressing into him, sinking all the way up to the second knuckle in one shove.

 

“Oh gods yes,” he breathed, his fingers bending to grip at the floorboards. “Fucking hell.”

The first barely had time to move before Severus pulled back and added a second, plunging them into the tight heat with abandon, so eager to fuck the willing redhead on the floor. He scissored them deftly and then rotated them together in the tight space which had Ron begging prettily. He turned up his fingers at the first joint and pressed and then the man in front of him was really screaming.

 

“Enough, I want you to fuck me… _now…_ ” in his deep desperation Ron was rasping his own throat raw but he didn’t care. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…” he begged over and over, thrusting back on the fingers which were determined to carry him off into orgasm by themselves.

 

Severus took mercy despite the fact he was hard simply from the choked begging Ron had given himself up to. He pushed aside the thought which made him question how fucked up he was to get hard off the rebound from such desperation.

 

He lubricated himself, shoved Ron forward on the floor, positioned himself and lunged in to the hilt in one swift move. Their cry hit the quiet room as one. Ron felt as though he’d been breached by something far bigger than what he remembered Severus’ cock to be like.

“Ow, fuck,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut with the pain.

 

 _That spell must really fucking have done some stretching…_ His eyes watered slightly as he braced himself on the floor for more pain, surely when Severus moved, it would just come back? _I should have let that guy fuck me and not the other way round, I would have had the experience of having done it without the spell._

“Ron, just relax,” he heard Severus’ instructing tone. “Just relax and it’ll feel better, I promise.”

“It hurts,” Ron glowered with how pathetic it sounded.  
“I know, I’m sorry, I thought you were…” Severus trailed off. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Ron shouted, “I’m just…” He wiggled his hips experimentally and was relieved to find the burning relented just a little. “Touch me. It’ll help.”

“Touch yourself,” Severus bartered, biting his lip to keep from thrusting before Ron was ready, but it was hard when his arse was tight enough to squeeze deliciously without even trying.

 

Ron swallowed and complied, wrapping his hand around his prick and squeezing in time practiced fashion, sweeping up and down on the shaft to entice himself into thrusting back. It did relax his muscles and when he moved to press into his hand, he moaned at the sensation of being filled from behind.

 

“Okay,” he gasped, rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock and spreading his pre-come around.”

“Tell me if it’s too much… I…”  
“What?” Ron breathed as the cock within him shifted.

“I need you too much to control myself if you do not tell me what is painful.”

 

_Need… he just said he needs me…_

  
“Severus,” Ron said with a thick throat. “If you say you need me like that again you can pound me into the next fucking month for all I care… fuck me, now.”

 

“As you wish,” Severus grabbed hold of the redhead’s hips, yanked him back, and impaled him properly on his cock. And then his own hips were pistoning back and forth, pounding into the tight space.

 

Ron was rendered speechless on his hands and knees as the pain flew far away and was replaced with smouldering need. “Oh sweet… Severus… you… oh…ohohohohoh fuck!”

 

Crying out with every forceful thrust into his body, Ron felt his tension melt away and he closed his eyes in happiness. There was no doubt he was going to be sore in the morning but he didn’t give a damn.

 

“No, Severus…” he hissed as the pace began to slow and settled to a minute rocking back and forth, he was howling out for more within seconds, having lost all his dignity and self control to the relentless fucking.

 

Severus himself was having enough trouble holding on to his wits, as the change from fast to slow made him want to flood the vice-like passage with semen then and there. But he was determined that he would show Ron how good he could feel with the right person at the helm.

 

_Sounds like I’m fucking steering him into port._

 

He choked on the awful pun and Ron’s head twitched up, Severus delighted in seeing the tendrils of red hair stuck to his sweaty neck.

“What’s funny?” Ron breathed.  
“Nothing, I just… you…” Severus managed to roll his hips in an upright circle, and then he had to grab Ron tight about the waist as he nearly collapsed in bliss.

“Fuck, what was that?”  
“Oh, you mean this?” Severus tightened his thighs and rolled again, slower, controlled to the very last millimetre.

“What… what sweet fucking…oh God… Severus please this is… fuck me!” Ron panted, his cock straining against his own hand.

 

_Fucking hell… he’s thoroughly wringing this out of me… oh…_

 

“How does it feel to be properly screwed, hmm?” Severus whispered, leaning forward to drip kisses up Ron’s spine. “How does it feel to be held so tight you think you’ll never be let go?” He wrapped both his arms around Ron’s chest and gripped him tightly, widening the stance of his knees to keep balanced.

“It feels good,” Ron whispered, chest heaving. “Please, Severus… don’t make me wait… I waited a week for you and the fuck I tried to get in the middle was nowhere as fucking good as you… you… you touch my soul.”

 

Severus couldn’t argue with such passionate words, even if he would be revisiting them later. He kissed Ron’s back again, then reached for his erection and wrapped his hand on top of the redhead’s.

 

Ron nearly buckled again under the combined stroking on his cock and moaned to the floorboards, keeping his eyes firmly shut so that everything he said was unable to shame him.

“Just let go,” Severus told him, and then without further torture, plunged straight back into the reckless, relentless fucking he had started with, listening to Ron moan beneath him with renewed voice.

 

Ron didn’t know what to feel. He was going to pass out when he came, he was sure of it, the pressure building in his prick as it was tugged was too much to bear. And then there was the thickness sliding in and out so he felt every single inch of his inner walls being grazed by Severus’ cock. His body was on sensory overload and he knew it would be ugly when he finally released.

“Come for me,” Severus whispered to him.

“I’m… I’m….” Ron’s breath caught in his throat as his climax surged in his belly and groin and he tensed, clamping down around Severus’ cock, hard.

 

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” the loud cry from the raven-haired man finally shoved him, howling, into orgasm.

 

His cock pumped and pumped pulses of ejaculate everywhere, though he refused to look where it landed. Ron actually couldn’t have opened his eyes if his life depended on it, he was so caught up in the fireworks exploding on the black canvases as his body jerked and he felt the wet gush of come leaking everywhere inside of him.

 

Severus grabbed hold of him and held in case he lost his strength; squeezing him in his arms and hissing through his own orgasm with numerous swear words and praises.

 

Ron finally managed to still his hips and groaned aloud again. “Mmphfuckit.”

“What?” Severus strained his ears.

“Fuck it. Need… knees are numb… bed…”

 

Severus instantly pulled back, eyes unable to move away from the gaping hole he left behind with its leaking accompaniment. His cock fell down thick and heavy between his legs and he got to his feet, knees cracking as he did so. He smoothed gentle hands onto Ron’s hips and pulled him back, supporting the redhead’s shoulders. Then he hoisted him up under the arms, with precision care, and laid him on the bed.

  
Ron just let him do it, too sated to protest. _If he wanted another round right now I don’t think I’d have the energy to say no._

 

He felt the bed dip behind him as Severus climbed onto it, and then felt the duvet be tugged from beneath his body.

“Here,” Severus gently tucked it over his body and Ron managed to roll over.

 

He threw his arms around Severus’ torso and tugged him tight to the mattress, entwining their legs together as they found comfortable positions side by side in the darkening room.

 

“You…” Ron was still having trouble breathing and he didn’t know quite why, as his heart rate was almost back to normal.

“Just shh,” Severus’ voice was softer and gentler than Ron had ever heard it before and there was a cool hand on his brow, brushing away his sweaty hair.

“Oh gods, Severus… I…”

“Shh,” the sweet rebuke came again and the hand was replaced with lips pressing just over his right eyebrow.

 

Ron gave up fighting and obeyed the man, falling into silence as he let his brow be kissed, his back be soothingly rubbed and as a foot massaged over his ankle bone. He let it continue until he felt confident enough to be able to repay the assurance, and then rubbed his hand in a small circle at the base of Severus’ spine.

“Ohhh gods, how did you know…”

“Know what?” Ron whispered, feeling that a tone any louder might shatter their beautiful moment.

“I... being massaged there is _so_ good,” Severus explained.

“I think you just like being massaged all over, don’t you?” Ron smiled at him.

“I think I do,” Severus confirmed with a dazed smile.

 

Ron crossed the miniscule distance between them on the pillow they shared and put their lips together in their softest, sweetest kiss yet. “Roll over,” he whispered. “Facing away from me.”

 

Severus looked at him with unsure eyes and he nearly melted when Ron leant forward and kissed the tip of his nose, an action nobody had ever taken the time to make in his entire life.

“Just trust me,” Ron beseeched him with glittering sapphire eyes.

“Anything when you look at me like that,” Severus breathed, and rolled over as commanded, settling on his other side.

 

He felt the bed shift behind him, and then all he knew was warmth as Ron spooned up into his back, snaking an arm beneath Severus’ neck and the other over his chest, making them meet in the middle with a tight grip. Then Severus let himself be tugged back again slightly, so he rested comfortably in the crook of Ron’s armpit with the redhead’s chin on his shoulder. He groaned as the duvet settled on top of his spent cock.

 

Ron smiled and kissed the dark hair close to his lips, revelling in the jasmine scent which had never been more heady as it had been at that moment, embroiled with the overwhelming fumes of sex rising like steam from both of them.

 

 _Never. Never never never never EVER has it been like that. Fuck._ Ron gripped a little tighter and swallowed.

  
“I wish you did not have to leave,” Severus said so quietly Ron might not have heard it if the room had not been deadly quiet.

“Me either,” Ron sighed. “I’ll come back. This weekend I’m only working Sunday. Saturday I’ll come back and we can… the whole day, Severus…”

 

Severus stayed quiet and Ron sensed he had said something wrong.

“Only if that’s what you want, of course,” he murmured, cheeks ablaze with rejection even though it had not officially come.

“What are we doing?” Severus asked of him, and the words floated up to the ceiling. “Are you content to keep hopping back and forth between London? You’re young Ron but you’re not infallible, apparating the length of the country is going to take it out of you and you need to keep your strength up…”

“Why, getting worried about me?” Ron teased with hot breath into Severus’ ear.

 

“No,” Severus adopted a cold tone of which he meant absolutely none. “I am merely pointing out that you will soon grow tired of the distance.”  
“And you think that means tired of you?” Ron asked.

“I assume you will manage that on your own, without the distance factor in the equation.”

“I don’t know what this is,” Ron breathed, suddenly desperate to make the man in his arms just how fantastic he made him feel. “I don’t know why you… I just… I’m going through the shittiest time in my life right now, Severus… I don’t know if I’m on my arse or my head and I’m trying to keep everyone happy… and you…”

 

Severus waited for him to finish and threw no prompts into the air.

 

“You’re making _me_ happy,” Ron whispered desperately, and screwed his face up in preparation to be told to leave the room and never come back.

 

But then Severus was turning in his arms. “Are you in pain?”

“What?”

“You look like you are in pain, did I hurt you?”

“No…” Ron sighed. “Well. Yes. But I… I hurt so much, I just… if you were going to reject me I had to…”

“Steel yourself?” Severus dropped a kiss in Ron’s chest hair.  
“Does that make me pathetic?” Ron asked miserably.

“No, it makes you a very hurt soul,” Severus sighed. “And one that I completely empathise with at this minute.”

“Godric,” Ron muttered. “I feel such a tool, Severus… if she could see me I’m sure she’d be laughing.”

“Well, she cannot see you. Only I can. And I am most certainly not laughing,” Severus assured him. “I… if you need an outlet for the emotions you feel you cannot share with anybody else, I promise you I will not judge.”

 

Ron opened his eyes then and looked at Severus, and that time he did not shy away from the pity written in the lines on the older man’s face. He took it straight to heart and let it fill him up. “Thank you, Severus… you’re…” Ron didn’t finish what Severus was; he just pulled him down and kissed him again, before melting into his shoulder and rocking the thin form slightly in his arms.

 

They stayed like that, wrapped in an embrace that neither wanted to break, until the darkness totally pervaded the room.

 

“You should go,” Severus whispered softly. “I want you to make it home safely.”

“You _are_ worried about me,” Ron needled.

“And if I was, would you have a problem about that?”  
“Would you have a problem if I said I hated the thought of you up here all alone in this cold place?”

 

Severus had the exact opposite of a problem with it. Not for the first time that night, he felt the warm prickling in his chest which indicated just how happy he was that Ron seemed to care for him.

 

“Why do you care for me?” he asked quietly, unable to keep his insecurity in. “I… did awful things, said awful things… I chopped off your brother’s ear, for Christ’s sake.”

 

Ron thought on his answer and gave a measured swallow. “Because it’s been eight years, and you are alone, and I am alone now too… you saved me from how awful my first Christmas alone should have been and I want to repay you by caring back, I guess. If that makes any sense at all.”

“I understand your reasoning,” Severus assured him. “Forgive me if I have a little trouble believing the actual sentiment though…”  
“Honestly, I-”

“You misunderstand me,” Severus pulled back to look at him. “I have never been very good at treating the people who care for me well. My past which you know so well should tell you that. I make mistakes.”  
“We all make mistakes,” Ron raised an eyebrow. “Whether that’s falling in with the wrong crowd or not noticing that your fucking girlfriend is screwing around with her boss…”

 

“I suppose we do,” Severus reached up and tucked a lock of Ron’s hair behind his ear. “You should go. Come back on Saturday, I’ll look forward to spending time with you…”

“That’s what you call what we just did?” Ron snorted with laughter, his face lighting up as he chuckled. “Spending time together… I’d call that fucking, Snape.”

“Well, you would, crude and unrefined as you are,” Severus flicked him a disparaging look down his nose.

“Oh, well, you seemed to like a bit of crude and unrefined about twenty minutes ago,” Ron shrugged where he lay.

“Get out of here, delicious boy.” Severus rolled his eyes and sat up, reaching for the light.

 

Ron reluctantly rolled out of the bed and put his feet on the floor, looking around for his clothes.

“Take some painkiller tonight, I have a feeling you will ache in the morning,” Severus said somewhat apologetically, staying wrapped in the duvet whilst Ron got up to retrieve his pants, once again flung far and wide in the room.

 

“I ache _now,_ ” Ron groaned, stepping into them. “Though that might be from the run, I got home and found your letter and was too excited to wind my muscles down properly.”

“You flatter me so,” Severus reclined with a languid stretch against the headboard.

 

Ron dressed quickly due to the falling temperature in the room and stepped into his shoes. “Want me to bring anything more on Saturday?”

“No, don’t waste your money on me,” Severus said firmly. “But thank you for what you did bring.”

“I’ve got more money than the last time I saw you,” Ron said with a wink. “I got a New Year bonus, made back half of what I lost on the wedding.”

“Congratulations,” Severus smiled.

“Sorry,” Ron flushed. “I shouldn’t brag, that’s not fair. Look… are you… do you need…?”

 

“Not a charity case,” Severus reminded him. “But you are very kind to offer.”

Ron nodded once and didn’t push it further, remembering exactly how it felt to be poor and have others constantly buying things you could never afford to repay and just how small that had made him feel.

  
“Right, then, I guess I’m off,” Ron shrugged sadly. “I don’t want to go though, I hope you realise that, Severus…”

 

“My hair smells of jasmine because I am very scent sensitive these days,” Severus looked at the duvet cover. “I have to be careful what I use or I end up in bed for three days. The jasmine is one of the only ones I can use with no retribution, even counting the so-called scentless muggle shampoos. The fact that it is the most feminine imaginable is something I have long since ignored.”

 

“It smells good,” Ron assured him. “And now I will never smell jasmine again without thinking of you. It was on my clothes from my last visit.”

“Sorry.”

 

There was a delicious light pink blush over the man’s pale cheeks and Ron bounded onto the bed, landing on his knees. “Don’t apologise. That scent… well. Kept me feeling safe on the nights I was too scared to shut my eyes.”

 

He blushed his own blush then, leant forward, and kissed Severus warmly.

 

***

Ron rang the doorbell of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and waited, shifting his bag on his hip. He’d received a Patronus message from Harry around twenty minutes from the flat and redirected his feet to take him to his best friend. The door swung open and he was confronted with his little sister.

  
“Hey Gin,” he smiled, and swept her into a hug. “How’s life? How was Florence?”

“Amazing,” she stood back to admit him. “All this amazing art and the food, oh my God Ron the food… you’d love it. Cheese coming out of every available vending surface…”

 

He chuckled as he made his way down the hallway. “Where’s-”

“Ron!” Harry’s voice called out of the room to the right of the hallway and then Ron was lost in another pair of arms.

  
They hugged a lot more frequently since the war. “Godric’s balls I missed you,” Harry gave him a tight squeeze and then let go. “I have walked around _so_ many art galleries my feet and eyes were bleeding as one, I’m telling you… only so many fucking statues of naked blokes with missing pricks you can look at before they all bleed into a fucking blur.”

 

“And yet the female statues you so thoroughly enjoyed,” Ginny commented airily, leaning over the back of the sofa which Ron and Harry had dropped on to.

 

“So, how are you?” Harry braced himself as he asked the question. “Which stage of the break-up process are we in now? Denial still or have we progressed?”  
“After today we’ve safely skated on to anger,” Ron muttered.

 

He had had a long apparition journey from Scotland for his happy glow from Severus to fade away and his mind to turn dark again with angry thoughts about Hermione.

 

“What happened today?” Ginny asked, wandering over and pulling the curtains shut.

 

Ron swallowed nervously. He needed to know whether they’d known about the other man but he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know the answer. If they had both kept it from him he was pretty sure he would be heartbroken again.

  
“Did you know Hermione was seeing somebody else?” He asked bluntly, looking Harry dead in his emerald irises.

 

Ron instantly knew that his best friend had had no idea, from the way his jaw dropped, the jewel-like eyes widened and his face coloured.

  
“No,” Harry breathed. “Ron, I swear, I had no… I can’t believe her.”  
“Are you sure?” Ginny frowned. “She promised us there was nobody else…”

Ron gave a hollow laugh. “I caught them together today in the Alley. Not only was she with him, he’s her boss by the way… she told me it had been going on a whole fucking year, right under my nose.”

 

“Oh my fucking God!” Harry leapt to his feet. “Ron, I… oh…”

 

Ron looked up to where Harry’s face had disappeared into his hands. “Harry, mate, don’t-”

“Ron. I would never have dodged between you both if I thought she’d deceived you like that, please believe me…”

“I do,” Ron held up his hands and got to his feet. “Harry, its fine. If you want to see her again that’s fine too. She’s your friend.”

“But definitely not yours any more?” Ginny asked sadly.

“Maybe she might have been if she’d not been screwing around for a year behind my back…” Ron sighed.

 

“I am so sorry,” Harry muttered again, and then threw his arms around Ron’s form once more and held him tight. “Why do you stink of jasmine, Ron?” He asked suddenly.

 

“Oh, fuck, I thought I’d gotten that all out,” Ron lied superbly. “I was pissing around with those oil burner things in my flat and dropped a bottle of it all over myself.”

“You smell like a flower market threw up on you,” Harry gave him a pointed sniff. “Much improved mate, if I do say so myself.”

 

_Harry just basically said Snape smells good on me. Oh, God. I need a drink._

 

 

[ /error duplicate post will remove soon]

 

Ron glared down the aisle of the bus and folded his arms sulkily over his chest.

 

_Maybe not even as quarter as good._

His eyes caught sight of one of the muggle sex shop chains and it did nothing to get his mind off its train of thought.

 

_What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never been out and picked somebody up in my fucking life. Let alone a fucking man. One night with a bloke and I’m a shirt-lifter now?_

He squeezed his eyes shut and unknowingly let out an infuriated growl. An elderly lady edged away from him and he saw her worried looks when he re-opened his eyelids to the world. He mouthed his apologies and looked dejectedly out of the window, reaching up to rub some of the sweat off his forehead. The thrum of the engine below him reverberated in his belly and a sick ache developed there. He reached for the bell and the bus stopped almost immediately and he got off, despite the fact he was still streets away from the flat.

 

Thanking the driver he stepped onto the pavement and tripped along the concrete, his limbs feeling heavy and loose all at once as the cold January air assaulted him. He was looking forward to a long hot shower and then dreading an afternoon studying for his annual performance review at work.

 

He had decorated the flat and it was, as he’d expected, much more satisfying to live in. His mother had been most impressed with his decorative skills and the furniture he’d picked out, even if the light sofa was still a point of contention. Ron had charmed it with every protective spell he could think of, and tested his work by chucking a glass of cherryade at it. The sofa was fine, but there was a blurry pinkish stain on the floorboards.

 

 _Must remember to look into spells to distress the floor…_ He’d taken great pleasure in ripping up the old carpet which had been in the flat. It was somewhat like peeling off skin and it satisfied him greatly to tug it up with the intention of throwing it away, possibly because it was wanted to do to himself to start all over again.

 

And then, as Charlie had put it, his beach house in the middle of London had been complete with the addition of several rag rugs and all the white distressed furniture.

 

_And have to remember to do the inside of the fireplace._

 

If Ron was being obsessive, he didn’t care. Attacking his flat had given him the release he needed and the means with which to keep his brain occupied from moping over his failed relationship. To that end he now had pale blue walls, a pretty tiled mosaic border in the bathroom with a new suite and a wonderfully tranquil turquoise bedroom. Blue was the prevailing colour scheme, not because he was depressed but because he genuinely found it calming.

 

He sped up his pace to keep his legs loosened until he could get home and stretch them and reached to turn down the volume on his player. Free and complimentary, of course, seeing as he knew the creator –if he ever left the Auror force he would miss all his well placed contacts.

 

_But would I really, if I had something better than free stuff?!_

He brooded on that and wondered where his love of the job had gone. At twenty there had been nothing he enjoyed more than going to work. At twenty-six it seemed nothing more than the chore he had insisted it would never become. Maybe it had just been the empty words of youth but he really had been sure he would love his job forever.

 

_And the money, don’t forget the money._

 

He couldn’t deny it was helpful. He had learned on the first day back after the Christmas holiday that his yearly bonus was huge. One might say massive –it was more than enough to replace at least half of what he’d lost on the wedding. And apart from buying dinner from the slightly more expensive muggle supermarket, he’d done nothing with it bar stick it in the bank and let it earn him interest for the two days it had been in his possession.

 

_Shite, I’ve got boring in my old age. What happened to the Ron who would get paid and blow half of it in an afternoon?_

He looked at the cars parked along the road as he walked down the quieter streets leading towards his flat. A smile curved up his lips remembering how angry Hermione had gotten every time he had done that, assuming he’d been stupid enough to not keep back enough for the rent, food and bills. Ron had never been that thoughtless. Growing up without money had instilled in him the sense to make sure all the necessary outgoings were covered before he spent the rest of it. It was lucky that being an Auror came with such a high pay packet.

 

It didn’t surprise him he was already home as he turned into the corner of his road; he’d always been a fast walker when deep in thought. Shivering slightly, he approached the gate as a figure jogged down the steps from the top flats.

 

“Basement flat?” the postman asked boredly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Ron tugged the headphones out of his ears, but the postal worker said nothing else, merely shoved a letter into Ron’s hand and walked away, rummaging in his red and yellow bag.

 

Ron swallowed and looked down at the letter, slightly bent in the corner. The spidery dark handwriting made him blink, and then he was sure his eyes must have widened comically as realisation set in.

 

_Oh… fuck!!!_

He jumped the small gate which closed off the steps down to his flat and jogged down them, the headphones trailing behind him on the concrete as he fumbled for the keys. He barrelled into the flat dropping the keys on the floor as he tore into the envelope and kicked the door shut behind him. He tugged out the note, heart thudding inexplicably hard. Sapphire eyes skated over the words desperately.

 

“Fuck yeah!” He grinned and re-read it a second time.

 

_Doesn’t sound particularly bothered though… but then it’s Snape. He never really did sound bothered about anything… except when I was sucking his cock of course._

He shivered with delight at the memory and folded the letter back up, crossing to the bookcase and slipping it into the first he found which just so happened to be his copy of the Official Auror Conduct Guidelines.

 

_Well fuck studying. I’m getting me to Scotland._

 

Ron didn’t care how eager it made him look that he was high-tailing to Scotland the second the letter had arrived, and he dove for the bedroom, but then caught sight of himself in the mirror.

 

Huge sweat patches blossomed beneath his arms and from his neckline and his hair was plastered down as he had expected. He looked awful.

 

_Alright, shower first, then Scotland._

_Scotland and a fuck, hopefully._

_Or a blow job._

_Maybe both?_

_I am *too* excited._

Ron stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor of the bathroom, reaching out to turn the freestanding shower on, springing back so the first run of cold water didn’t drench him. Whilst he waited for it to heat he performed a few stretches on his muscles glad nobody was around to watch him doing them in the buff, especially when he nearly kicked himself in the eye with his own knee.

 

_He doesn’t know just how bendy I am yet._

With that Ron jumped into the water and delighted in the feel of it carrying away the salty expulsions of his morning’s exercise, feeling cleaner with every passing second.

 

He was washing his hair when a thought struck him.

 

_I should go to the Alley and get him some stuff, more headache Potion for one. And maybe some obviously magical stuff he might have missed._

 

Ron didn’t know if his plan would be appreciated, what with the way Severus had seemed determined he would be living a muggle life even if Ron were to visit him again.

 

_A headache potion isn’t going to kill him, though, it’ll just help. And he can always say no to me if he really doesn’t want it._

 

Reaching for the shower gel Ron was glad that he was out of sight of the mirror. The stupidly big grin on his face would only have confused him as to just what the hell was going on his brain and heart.

 

***

Ron left the stinking Apothecary glad to get out of the stench which was contained in its walls. He hoped none of it had clung to his hair and clothes –rotting eggs wasn’t really the scent he was going for. Shutting the zipper on his bag he returned his hands to his pockets, regretting, like usual, the fact that he’d left his gloves behind in the flat. He was absolutely rubbish at remembering to take gloves anywhere and he lost them serially, resulting in a bizarre trail of dropped gloves which lay hidden across the United Kingdom, he was sure. Hermione had forever been moaning at him about it.

 

_Oh, shit and fuck. Think of the devil and she shall appear…_

 

Ron froze as he caught sight of curly, bushy hair and a slim, svelte body dressed neatly in her work robes. He could almost smell them as he watched her, even though she was four shops away. It was the first time he had seen her since the day she had left him and he wasn’t prepared for the sledgehammer which flew from nowhere and hit into his chest. He blinked a few times in shock and took an automatic step backwards, but it didn’t matter. She’d already seen him.

 

Hermione’s mouth fell open in an undignified ‘o’ shape and Ron narrowed his eyes involuntarily. Faced with the woman he’d loved for eight years he couldn’t help the bitterness which surged through his body. She walked towards him and Ron knew he had no escape from _that_ moment he’d been subconsciously dreading.

 

“Hello,” she said softly, her brown eyes concerned.

“Don’t ask me how I am,” Ron muttered through gritted teeth, pre-empting her next question.

“You look well,” Hermione’s eyes turned confused then, and Ron swallowed, thinking of the way he’d spent a good amount of time grooming and carefully selecting, not to mention ironing, his clothes before leaving for the Alley.

“Good, couldn’t give the world the impression I was heartbroken, could we?”

“Don’t be like this,” she pleaded with him. “I just… did you get the television and everything I sent.”

“Yes,” Ron’s teeth were still gritted and his jaw had begun to ache with the tension. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, they were yours,” her cheeks flushed red.

 

 _This is the point where you admit the perfume…_ Ron batted that thought away and defiantly broadened his shoulders.

“I’m fine.”

“How was your Christmas?”

“Quiet, with Mum and Dad. Yours?”

 

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but then there was a call and her face flushed the hideous shade of magenta Ron recognised from whenever Hermione had been caught red handed in an embarrassing situation.

 

If he had felt bitterness before, it was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compared to what roared in his belly when a tall, well dressed man appeared behind Hermione and put what was obviously a caring hand on her shoulder. “Here you are, love…”

 

_Love?_

“Moved on already, I see?” Ron managed to choke out.

 

_Why shouldn’t she have? She didn’t love me. She must have been ready to dump me for months._

 

“Ron, I don’t-”

 

Ron swept his eyes over the tall figure with his hand on Hermione’s shoulder. With a jolt he realised that it was her supervisor within the ministry, where she worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was at least ten years her senior.

 

“How long?” Ron asked quietly, even though he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Ron, please, look… this isn’t the place for this, we should-”

“I have plans this afternoon. I don’t intend to spend more than five seconds in your company _ever_ again, ‘Mione,” he couldn’t help the use of his affectionate name shortening, it rolled off his name like silk. “So tell me now, how long has this been going on?”

 

Her eyes widened and then closed whilst her colour heightened. “About a year.”

 

_Oh wow, way to kick me straight in the fucking gonads. Fuck._

“A _year_?” he repeated in a breathy gust of air. “A _fucking_ year? Oh, God.”

 

He turned around and walked away, glad of his thick coat because his body temperature had just taken a ten degree dip, it seemed.

 

 _A year, a fucking year. She was… with him… and with… oh fuck me._ He rounded the corner, glad to be out of her sight, but it only served to thicken his throat and make his eyes burn.

 

He found himself faced with Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and blinked at the garish colours. The sign was flicked to open which meant his brother was in and working and he would be there with a cup of tea and open arms if Ron wanted them.

 

The bag he carried weighed heavy around his torso, the strap cutting into his collarbone through his coat, so full of gifts from the magical world for the man who had been away from it for so long. Ron coughed through his burning throat and headed for the nearest apparition point, blinking away unruly tears.

 

***

 

Scotland was colder than London and Ron shivered as he made his way down the icy pavement to the pub. The village was as quiet as it had been when he had last been there but looked no less picturesque for the lack of snow. He could see mountains in the distance and felt the icy blow of sea wind from an easterly direction. With a certain amount of trepidation he approached the pub door again, realising he had sent no prior word to Severus to warn him of his arrival. If the man wasn’t there, Ron was fairly sure it would shatter the little sliver of dignity he was clinging on to.

 

Stepping inside, he found the warm, yeasty smell exactly the same. He looked into the corner and found his unfortunate adversary of the Christmas tree gone, the space filled with a table under the window. The pub was empty which didn’t particularly surprise him –it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday and most people would be working.

 

“Afternoon, what can I get you?” A woman spoke and he looked at her, wondering if she was Severus’ cousin.

“I, uh… I’m here to see…” _Fuck? Severus? Mr. Snape… Godric that’s weird._ “Oh, him!”

 

Ron was saved from deciding what to call the man because Severus, at that point, walked out from the back room. They stared at each other for a moment before Ron let his nervous smile break onto his face and raised his hand in a pointless wave.

 

“Since when do you have visitors?” the woman raised an eyebrow and looked at Severus, who Ron had thought had frozen.

 

But the man took a step forward, inclining his head to the back room to Ron whilst speaking to the woman. “Are you alright on your own for a while?”

“No, the thriving business is too much for me to handle,” the woman shot back sarcastically with an eye over the empty seats. “I’m going to shut and go back to the horses. See you tonight.”

 

Ron heard no more as he walked carefully up the stairs and ducked into the living room. It looked much the same as it had the last time he had visited and his eyes crept into the bedroom remembering all the wonderful things that had happened in there. He stepped closer to the fire and appreciated the first warmth he’d had since his shower five hours before. He heard the door close quietly behind him and he spun round to look at Severus, suddenly nervous and fluttery.

 

“Please, sit,” Severus gestured to the sofa and raised his eyes to meet Ron’s.

 

“I, um…” Ron struggled for words to say and then awkwardly stepped forward and gave the man a swift hug. The body he held was stiff in his arms and he immediately stepped away, colour burning into his cheeks at his mistake. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and reached up to undo the collar of his coat.

 

A hand caught his and Ron looked into onyx eyes once more and felt the tension trying to seep out of his skin. There was clearly something about Severus Snape which made him relax, though he couldn’t say what.

 

_And that’s fucking weird because I never relaxed around him at school… I didn’t want to…_

 

“Apologies, I did not expect you to do that…” Severus spoke quietly, still holding onto Ron’s hand.

Ron gave him another smile and shrugged. “I just… well. How are you?”

“Not much different to the last time you saw me,” Severus gave him the dull answer and stepped away, gently releasing the hand.

 

Undoing his coat, Ron felt the backs of his legs tingling with the warmth of the fire. “God, it’s so cold everywhere.”

“It’s January,” Severus rolled his eyes and looked at him.

“I know but still…” Ron’s body physically shuddered as he yanked his bag over his head and set it on the floor, then shrugged out of his coat. “Um?” He wished he could feel less awkward as he looked around for somewhere to place it, but every move he made seemed stupidly clumsy compared to the grace of his companion.

 

Their hands brushed as Severus took the coat from him and hooked it onto the back of the door he had closed. Ron stooped and picked up his bag but when he stood again, he was aware of Severus looking over him, at the fitted deep blue jeans he’d chosen, and charcoal grey fine-knit jumper with the sleeves pushed up to three quarter length. But he said nothing and walked to the sofa, where he sat.

  
“I went… well. I got your letter,” Ron said pointlessly. “Which I guess you know because I’m here.”

“I’m glad it arrived,” Severus gave him what might have been a small smile and Ron took heart.

“Well, I just thought… as I’m connected and you’re not, you might like some stuff…”

 

He walked over and sat down next to him and fumbled with the zip on his bag.

 

_He might get rid of my tension but he makes me a fucking nervous wreck!_

 

“I went and got you some of this, remembering what you said about the headaches. That stuff I gave you won’t last long, so…” Ron handed over a bag containing a better, bigger version of headache painkiller. “And this, because everybody knows muggles can’t make chocolate for shit, and I thought if you’re not well sometimes you should probably have a supply up here…”

 

He placed three huge bars of Honeydukes’ chocolate in Severus’ lap and then delved back into the bag again. “And this is for your bed, actually, because it gets pretty cold in there and if you won’t use charms to heat it up you’ve got to have something or you’ll freeze…”

 

Ron pulled out the heavy blanket condensed into a tight bundle. “It’s charmed to keep the heat in. They’re a fucking life saver, the amount of times I’ve spent in tents huddled under these.”

 

Ron stopped then, because Severus was looking at him with a staggered expression and he flushed under the scrutiny. “What?”

“You did not have to do all this, I told you before, I do not want to be your charity case.”  
“You’re not!” Ron frowned. “I just thought as I was visiting I’d bring you some gifts… my mum always told me it was rude to turn up as a guest without gifts and so here I am.”

“I cannot accept these,” Severus told him quietly.

“Yes you can, don’t be daft.”

“I do not have the means with which to repay you.”

 

Ron couldn’t stop his eye roll even though he knew it was rude. “You’ve been out of the magical world for eight years, not your mind, Severus. Surely you remember the definition of the word ‘gift’?”

 

One black eyebrow rose and Ron flinched, knowing he’d been too quick mouthed, but was surprised when there was a slight smirk before Severus spoke again.

  
“I suppose I do. Thank you.”

“And I had to go through something bloody painful to get them so you’d bloody better be grateful,” Ron muttered as an aside and got to his feet again, inching closer to the fire to try and leech some more warmth.

 

“What are you talking about?” Severus questioned him and Ron heard the bag open to inspect the potion, which meant his gifts had been accepted.

“Hermione,” Ron exhaled hard through his lips, so hard he made the flames bat in the grate. “I saw her for the first time in the Alley getting the stuff.”  
“Oh?”

“With her new… partner,” the bitterness surged again.

“I’m sorry, Ron…”  
“You think that’s bad,” Ron snorted and turned around to look at Severus. “I just found she’d been seeing him for a whole year behind my back. He’s her fucking boss in the Ministry.”

 

They held each others’ gazes until Ron dropped his eyes miserably to the carpet and heaved another sigh.

“I am sorry that it was your endeavour to bring me these which led you to that… unpleasant experience,” Severus said softly. “I am grateful for them but I wish you had been spared the details.”

 

“You and me both,” Ron shrugged and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “But hey, so what, right? She’s over me… fair enough, she didn’t love me.”

“And you?”

 

The question hovered in the air and Ron hated how it sent a shiver down his spine; just as he had experienced on Christmas Eve, and the rest of the years Ron had known him, Severus retained the ability to put a question into the ether which made him feel completely incompetent.

 

“Well, I reckon I can safely chuck the bottle of her perfume I’ve been sleeping with down the drain,” Ron smiled and rubbed one boot nervously against the other.

 

Severus said nothing to that but got to his feet. “Why did you come? Surely you would have been better off going home to grieve?”  
“Nobody’s dead,” Ron shrugged.

“Your relationship is and one generally tends to mourn it just like a death,” Severus set the items he held down on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything?”

 

“No,” Ron shook his head and looked up with a smile.

“You look perished, not even tea?”

“Alright, maybe tea,” Ron nodded, stretching his arms out behind him and cracking his fingers in the process as they locked at the height of the stretch.

 

Severus watched him with the same quietness as before but that time Ron managed to keep his colouring under control, though it nearly flew out the window when Severus stepped forward and put his hands on Ron’s shoulders.

  
“I do not think you really know why you are here. And I do not either. But I’m glad you are.”

 

And then Ron was in an embrace he expected even less than the heartfelt words, and he was swamped with the intoxicating scent of jasmine once more.

 

_Oh fuck. I’m a goner. It smells so fucking good._

 

“Are you sniffing me?” Severus’ voice was a little incredulous.

 

 _Shit, was I?_ Ron swallowed and said, “Erm… dunno. Probably.”

“Why?”

“Do you ever shut up asking questions?” Ron bristled teasingly.

“No.”

“If I _was_ smelling you it was because I haven’t been able to get the fucking smell of your hair out of my head for a week,” Ron breathed, and then nosed at it slightly, easily managed with the position of his head. “It’s just so… mmm, Merlin,” he groaned slightly. “Why, Snape, why do you smell like jasmine?”

“Shampoo.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You asked, I told you the truth, I think in many circles that equals an answer…”

“Alright then, if you want to be bloody pedantic about it,” Ron growled. “Why are you using a shampoo that makes you smell of highly feminine jasmine flowers?”

 

“Does it bother you?”

“You can’t answer my question with a question.”

“Yes, I can.”

 

“Have you always been this bloody annoying?” Ron smiled into the hair, enjoying the feel of Severus’ hands on his back.

“Probably. I certainly annoyed you at Hogwarts.”

“Well all of the teachers annoyed me there, don’t award yourself any specialities.”  
“Oh, you wound me so.”

Ron could almost see the roll of his eyes even though he was facing the opposite way. He grinned and pulled back.

 

“You’re smiling, I see,” Severus let his eyebrow rise again. “Considering the morning you’ve had I will swell with pride at my ability to provoke that out of you.” His sarcasm rang through the room.  
“Yeah my morning was shit,” Ron nodded in agreement. “My run fucking sucked too.”  
“Your language is… did you say _run_?”

 

Ron nodded. “I have to keep fit for work, if I fail the fitness tests it’s a desk job for me.” He swiped a finger across his throat with a wink.

“So you… run… in public…”

“Is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

 

Ron didn’t see Severus’ slightly dazed smile as the man turned away from him and descended the stairs for the forgotten tea.

 

He didn’t know the thoughts swirling around the injured mind of sweaty redheads, showers and discarded clothes.

 

***

“No, you quickly learn not to piss my mum off,” Ron took a deep mouthful of tea. “Bellatrix Lestrange learnt that the hard way.”

 

Severus looked at him apprehensively at the mention of the crazed Death Eater.

“Sorry,” Ron flushed. “I just… we’re all so used to talking about it in conversation it’s hard to turn it off just because I’m with you, you know?”

“I understand. What did your mum do to Bella?”

Ron flinched, it was odd hearing Severus use the shortened version of the evil witch’s name, but he glossed over it, remembering how well Severus had played his part –he couldn’t be blamed if he had picked up shortened, affectionate names and used them even when he no longer had to. “My mum killed her.”  
“ _Your_ mother killed Bellatrix Lestrange?!” Severus’ eyes flew wide, suddenly sitting up ramrod straight on the sofa where they had both begun to slouch as they relaxed around each other.

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “I didn’t see it. I was sort of busy bringing down that fucking Greyback bastard with Neville at the time, but Harry tells me it was top notch entertainment. He loves to tease her about it. At one point she was proper screeching ‘not my daughter you bitch!’ She went after Gin, see…”

 

“ _You_ brought down Fenrir Greyback?” Severus’ voice was no stronger than the first time he had spoken. “You and Longbottom?”

“Yeah, fucking bastard was snapping at us both right until the end, nearly got me as well,” Ron shuddered involuntarily. “Mum nearly had two half-werewolves to care for. But no. He went eventually.”

 

“You certainly have enough medals for your own chest without the Auror career,” Severus commented and took a mouthful of tea to try and get some normality back into his body.

“Pffft,” Ron shrugged. “I did what I had to do to get through it, everyone did. Would any of us have done that without the threat of him? No.”

 

Severus looked thoughtfully into the fire and said no more, leaving Ron tapping his fingernail nervously on the mug he held. He craned his neck to look to the window and saw that the sky was beginning to darken. “God, time goes so fast…”

“It always seems so when you’re young,” Severus didn’t look at him.

“Well, that wasn’t patronising in the least.”

 

Ron wasn’t quite sure how to act around Severus the second time round. He’d been laughing at his humour for the past two hours but Ron really didn’t know if it was welcome or not. And they’d just ended up on the subject of the war and now Severus had obviously withdrawn upon himself.

“It was not intended to be,” Severus looked at him with one side of his mouth up in a tight if lopsided smile.  
“I know,” Ron shook his head and yawned.

  
“How long are you…?” Severus had been going to finish that with ‘going to stay’ but it made it sound too sordid, even for him.

“Well… I don’t know,” Ron licked his lips. “I need to be off by seven if I want to use the official apparition points. I want to go home tonight…”

“You may stay again if you wish?”

“I have work in the morning,” Ron said apologetically. “I work on a day on/day off rota at the minute. I should be studying for my review but, well… then I got your letter.”  
“Don’t get yourself sacked and blame it on me,” Severus warned him. “You would soon find yourself unwelcome.”

 

Ron snorted with laughter and set his mug down on the coffee table. “Nah, its fine. I was already ahead, I didn’t have much to do over Christmas week anyway. Apart from decorating the flat.”

“Do you have any furniture yet?” Severus asked with amused eyes.

“Yes!” Ron said proudly. “And it’s stuff that I like, as well, nobody else’s bloody opinion at all.”  
“It sounds like you have successfully begun making a new life for yourself,” Severus commented and gave him a warm smile.

“Mm,” Ron agreed, raising his eyebrows a little. “It feels a bit more like home now and there’s somewhere for George to sleep when he needs it.”

 

“Why would he need to sleep at your flat?” Severus asked, confused.

“Oh,” Ron made a face. “He’s... my roommate more often than he’s not, if that makes sense. He has no where that doesn’t remind him of Fred and he’s just so… sad. I can never say no to him. It never occurs to me to say no to him.”

“Granger must have found that hard?”

“She bitched about it enough, so I suppose so,” Ron shrugged. “But then she knew me, knew my family… if she thought I would turn my back on one of them as in need as George was she didn’t know me half as well as I hoped.”

 

Ron coloured under Severus’ gaze then, surprised at the intensity with which the dark eyes fixed on his face.

“You care for your brother very much,” Severus said softly.

“Yes,” Ron answered honestly. “And just like I would have done for Harry, I would do anything for him.”

“You are oddly loyal,” the observation stung Ron and he didn’t know why.

“Why oddly?”

“Well, you have to understand that I only have experience of loyalty from deranged devotion,” Severus reminded him. “But you seem so pure. Once I’d imagine that would have made me want to run to the nearest lavatory.”

 

“And now?” Ron looked down at his mug. “Because if you can’t accept how I feel about my family, Severus, then I might as well leave right now…”

 

“Why are you here?” Severus swallowed nervously. “Did you just come for the small talk and tea, or did you want more of the other night?”

“I came for the small talk, tea and biscuits,” Ron still looked down at his hands. “I… the first night was great, but if that isn’t what you want then I understand that.”

“You should have mentioned the biscuits,” Severus gave a tut and made to get up but Ron laughed and grabbed his arm.

“I’m just joking, Snape, seriously.”

 

“You keep slipping my surname into sentences,” Severus told him.

“Habit of a lifetime, I’m really sorry,” Ron grinned. “I even think it sometimes.”  
“You’ve been thinking about me?” Severus hitched up an eyebrow.

 

Ron looked at him then with a completely honest face and breathed, “I haven’t fucking _stopped_ thinking about you, Severus. Or what we did.”

 

“That would make two of us then,” was the clipped reply.

 

 _Oh Godric he’s sitting there and I just want to chuck this mug on the floor and all I want to do is jump him…_ Ron felt a stirring in his groin at the very thought.

 

“Severus?” He whispered, not daring to raise his eyes.

“Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

 

 Ron was forced to look up when the mug was tugged out of his hands, and then Severus was leaning over him, placing his hands on either side of Ron’s torso. There was a wave of rolling jasmine scent and then he was being kissed, his lips forced apart by a determined tongue and he groaned in pleasure, his cock springing completely to attention in his jeans.

 

“No, because I beat you to it,” Severus whispered, barely pulling away from Ron’s lips. “I have thought of nothing else for a week.”

“Oh thank God,” Ron closed his eyes and threw his hands around the man’s back. “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we did…”

 

Ron was too busy babbling to notice that Severus had turned properly and crawled so that he properly towered over his body. Finally taking the hint, Ron wriggled south and stretched out, reclining his back so he leant on the arm of the chair. He hissed as Severus’ weight settled down on top of him and his cock was pressured by a firm backside.

 

“W-what did you think of?” Ron stammered, reaching up his hands to sink them into Severus’ hair.

“You,” Severus answered, ducking his head to kiss down Ron’s neck. “And the way you submitted to me and kissed me…”  
“And came for you?” Ron breathed, almost groaning at the sensation of the lips on his neck.

“And that,” Severus sat back up again. “Look, we should-”

 

He made eyes at the bedroom and Ron nearly passed out with anticipation.

“Look at that,” he smiled teasingly. “You have ‘come to bed’ eyes.”

“I assure you I do not,” Severus reached down in between them to palm Ron’s crotch. “And anyway, as if I would need them, you seem to be willing enough as it is.”  
“I am so willing I’m going to explode right here and now if you keep that up,” Ron tilted his head back and hissed the words through clenched teeth. “Fuck.”

 

Severus swallowed what was sure to be an embarrassing gasp as he looked at the outline of Ron’s throat and the way his chest moved beneath the fine jumper.

“You look delicious,” he assured him.

“Good, I intended to,” Ron smirked, but it melted into a gasp when his nipples were assaulted with cool fingers.

“You mean that you made an effort, just for me?” Severus gave them a gentle twist.

“Y-yeah,” Ron stammered.

 

Fingers squeezed tighter and then Ron moaned at the pain which sent odd little spikes of lust down to his dick and made it harder. He had never understood pain for pleasure but if Severus kept up he knew he would be well on his way.

 

“Stop,” he gasped finally, shifting his hips around in a full circle as the passion threatened to burst out of him in waves.

“Did you like that?” Severus asked in a devilishly low voice next to Ron’s ear.

“Fucking loved it,” Ron was aware that his voice had crept up in pitch and that he sounded desperate.

 

_Fuck it, I am fucking desperate and I have been ever since I last touched him. Fuck._

“Get in the bedroom, now,” the hiss was low but Ron heard it perfectly, and he flew off the sofa when Severus removed his body weight, heading for the bedroom.

 

He kicked off his boots and immediately tugged at his jumper, managing to get it halfway off before Severus’ mouth assaulted him, clamping down over one of the nipples he had just been abusing. Ron’s scream was muffled because his head was stuck inside his jumper, but there was no doubt of his appreciation when teeth bit into the molested nub and a tongue flicked out to lick what was trapped.

 

Ron had never known before _just_ how much sensation could come from one body part as Severus refused to let his nipple go, but soon he was keening, begging for release and leaking a sticky trail in his underwear.

  
“I’m serious if you don’t stop I’m going to come,” he panted, and was relieved when Severus released him and allowed him to remove his jumper entirely.

“I thought we established last time that such an occurrence would not be a problem?” Severus muttered to him silkily, pulling him into a tight embrace which met their cocks together with indecent rapturous moans from them both.

 

Ron rolled his hips and was pleased to evoke a groan of his own creation from Severus, and then he knew what he wanted to do.

“On the bed,” he turned Severus as he spoke, and pushed him to sit on the edge of the mattress. Pulling out his wand Ron sent cleaning spells at both of them, missing the dirty wetness of the mess he had already produced in his pants.

 

_Sometimes that feels just as good as you know what’s coming…_

 

He grinned dirtily and dropped to his knees in between Severus’ legs. “You didn’t let me do this last time. Now it’s my turn.”  
“I have never been so utterly compelled to invite someone to be my guest,” Severus’ hands flitted over his trousers and undid them lifting his hips slightly to work them down.

 

Ron took over then, springing forward and peeling down black underwear to revel the erection just as he remembered it from before. He wasted no time in looking, however –he moved forward, slipped his lips over the tip and began licking.

 

A hand landed in his hair and massaged his scalp and Ron flicked out with his tongue, pushing aside foreskin and searching for the part which had really made him lose control. He felt odd being so new to the whole practice of pleasuring another man, but from the steady stream of hissed invective coming from above him, Ron was pretty sure he was doing it right purely from the way Severus’ teeth were so clenched with tension.

 

He broke off for a moment to rest his jaw and looked up from under his fringe, tasting saltiness on his lips.

  
“What did I warn you about doing that?” Severus breathed, closing his eyes. “About looking so fuckable?”  
“Do you want to fuck me?” the low huskiness of Ron’s voice surprised even him; his voice turned a pleasing deep baritone he had never heard before.

 

There was a growl and then he went flying backwards onto the floor and Severus’ weight was on top of him again.

“But I didn’t finish youmph-”

 

He was cut off by a smouldering kiss as the talented hands he’d dreamt of for a week ran riot over the skin of his torso, smoothing over the planes of muscles and teasing at the hair leading into his jeans. “If you want me,” Ron panted. “Just flip me over and fuck me, Severus, why wait? We both clearly want this…”

 

Severus let out another snarl at the words and then Ron felt his hips gripped in a fierce fingerspan,

 

 _When did he even open my fucking jeans?!_ Ron marvelled as they slid down his thighs and his underwear was dragged unceremoniously with them. _Man’s a fucking wizard… oh, wait…_

“Holy fuck!” Ron’s cry rent the room as his cock was engulfed in searing wet heat for a single stroke and then he was being flipped, his jeans tangled around his feet. And then there were fingers running down his crease, gently touching the largely undiscovered skin and he whined in delight. “Please, fuck… don’tfuckingstopSeverussss.”

“I don’t intend to stop,” Severus informed him, and then Ron jerked forward as something very definitely wet ghosted over his entrance, probing and licking with tiny, precise movements.

 

“Shit and fuck are you…” Ron’s eyes rolled back in his head at the thought that anyone would want to pleasure him enough to lick him _there._

“Do you like that?” Severus’ voice rumbled up to him, hot breath drenching the sensitive skin.

“I… fuck…”  
“Shall I take that as a yes?” Severus swiped his tongue again and Ron choked a reply. “I haven’t got the patience for the spell,” he added and then Ron felt a gloriously slick finger pressing into him, sinking all the way up to the second knuckle in one shove.

 

“Oh gods yes,” he breathed, his fingers bending to grip at the floorboards. “Fucking hell.”

The first barely had time to move before Severus pulled back and added a second, plunging them into the tight heat with abandon, so eager to fuck the willing redhead on the floor. He scissored them deftly and then rotated them together in the tight space which had Ron begging prettily. He turned up his fingers at the first joint and pressed and then the man in front of him was really screaming.

 

“Enough, I want you to fuck me… _now…_ ” in his deep desperation Ron was rasping his own throat raw but he didn’t care. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…” he begged over and over, thrusting back on the fingers which were determined to carry him off into orgasm by themselves.

 

Severus took mercy despite the fact he was hard simply from the choked begging Ron had given himself up to. He pushed aside the thought which made him question how fucked up he was to get hard off the rebound from such desperation.

 

He lubricated himself, shoved Ron forward on the floor, positioned himself and lunged in to the hilt in one swift move. Their cry hit the quiet room as one. Ron felt as though he’d been breached by something far bigger than what he remembered Severus’ cock to be like.

“Ow, fuck,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut with the pain.

 

 _That spell must really fucking have done some stretching…_ His eyes watered slightly as he braced himself on the floor for more pain, surely when Severus moved, it would just come back? _I should have let that guy fuck me and not the other way round, I would have had the experience of having done it without the spell._

“Ron, just relax,” he heard Severus’ instructing tone. “Just relax and it’ll feel better, I promise.”

“It hurts,” Ron glowered with how pathetic it sounded.  
“I know, I’m sorry, I thought you were…” Severus trailed off. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Ron shouted, “I’m just…” He wiggled his hips experimentally and was relieved to find the burning relented just a little. “Touch me. It’ll help.”

“Touch yourself,” Severus bartered, biting his lip to keep from thrusting before Ron was ready, but it was hard when his arse was tight enough to squeeze deliciously without even trying.

 

Ron swallowed and complied, wrapping his hand around his prick and squeezing in time practiced fashion, sweeping up and down on the shaft to entice himself into thrusting back. It did relax his muscles and when he moved to press into his hand, he moaned at the sensation of being filled from behind.

 

“Okay,” he gasped, rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock and spreading his pre-come around.”

“Tell me if it’s too much… I…”  
“What?” Ron breathed as the cock within him shifted.

“I need you too much to control myself if you do not tell me what is painful.”

 

_Need… he just said he needs me…_

  
“Severus,” Ron said with a thick throat. “If you say you need me like that again you can pound me into the next fucking month for all I care… fuck me, now.”

 

“As you wish,” Severus grabbed hold of the redhead’s hips, yanked him back, and impaled him properly on his cock. And then his own hips were pistoning back and forth, pounding into the tight space.

 

Ron was rendered speechless on his hands and knees as the pain flew far away and was replaced with smouldering need. “Oh sweet… Severus… you… oh…ohohohohoh fuck!”

 

Crying out with every forceful thrust into his body, Ron felt his tension melt away and he closed his eyes in happiness. There was no doubt he was going to be sore in the morning but he didn’t give a damn.

 

“No, Severus…” he hissed as the pace began to slow and settled to a minute rocking back and forth, he was howling out for more within seconds, having lost all his dignity and self control to the relentless fucking.

 

Severus himself was having enough trouble holding on to his wits, as the change from fast to slow made him want to flood the vice-like passage with semen then and there. But he was determined that he would show Ron how good he could feel with the right person at the helm.

 

_Sounds like I’m fucking steering him into port._

 

He choked on the awful pun and Ron’s head twitched up, Severus delighted in seeing the tendrils of red hair stuck to his sweaty neck.

“What’s funny?” Ron breathed.  
“Nothing, I just… you…” Severus managed to roll his hips in an upright circle, and then he had to grab Ron tight about the waist as he nearly collapsed in bliss.

“Fuck, what was that?”  
“Oh, you mean this?” Severus tightened his thighs and rolled again, slower, controlled to the very last millimetre.

“What… what sweet fucking…oh God… Severus please this is… fuck me!” Ron panted, his cock straining against his own hand.

 

_Fucking hell… he’s thoroughly wringing this out of me… oh…_

 

“How does it feel to be properly screwed, hmm?” Severus whispered, leaning forward to drip kisses up Ron’s spine. “How does it feel to be held so tight you think you’ll never be let go?” He wrapped both his arms around Ron’s chest and gripped him tightly, widening the stance of his knees to keep balanced.

“It feels good,” Ron whispered, chest heaving. “Please, Severus… don’t make me wait… I waited a week for you and the fuck I tried to get in the middle was nowhere as fucking good as you… you… you touch my soul.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Severus took a deep breath and pushed open the small gate leading to concrete steps dampened with February rain. He was taking a chance by being there, he knew, as Ron’s flat was connected to all the magical forms of transport. But then again that was why he was glad of the pouring weather, so that his huge coat and the hood he could hide within were justified. He quietly closed the gate and walked down the steps, taking in the tiny space filled with pots of what looked like herbs. He could see a light peeking through a crack in the curtains and heard what sounded like a television, but couldn’t be sure.

 

He looked at the glossy blue wooden front door for a few moments, mentally battling himself.

 

_I should not arrive unexpectedly. Anybody could be in there, and then how will he explain who was at the door? I do not want to cause him trouble._

Severus took a swallow and stayed looking at the door.

 

_I did not spend seven hours on a train down here to just walk away when confronted with his front door. The business for Helen took all of five minutes._

He had jumped at the chance when she had asked him quite desperately to go to London to meet with a supplier for her Equine supply shop she ran separately from the pub with her riding school, who couldn’t make it north. The business had been simple, quick, and hardly worth the seven hour journey but then Severus had an ulterior motive for offering.

 

_Yes, stopping round to see him. So. Knock on the door, Severus._

Still not entirely sure that he should be doing so, Severus raised his hand and grabbed the door knocker, giving two sharp raps. He lowered his hand and waited, hearing the sound of the television pause and then shuffled footsteps. The door swung open and he nearly immediately apologised for getting the wrong flat because the person looking back at him was incredibly pale, with massive bags beneath their eyes, hair in complete disarray with a healthy coating of stubble.

 

Ron stared back at him in shock, his wide eyes making his rough appearance look even worse.

 

“Severus, what’re you… oh, fuck, sor-” He didn’t get any more out before a massive sneeze ripped out of his throat and he hurriedly covered his nose and mouth with a tissue. He swayed slightly on his feet and blinked a few times before looking up again. “Sorry, I’b ill. Wizarbing flu and id really… ah…” Another sneeze.

 

“May I come in?” Severus asked him nervously.

“Sure, I can’d believe you’re here!” Ron’s face broke into a tired smile and he stepped back, opening the door fully. “Why are you?”

 

Severus stepped into the living room and his eyes seemed to feast on the place where Ron lived, taking in the blue walls, the bare floorboards, and the breezy countenance of the rooms.

“You were quite right; this does look like a beach house!” He agreed, pushing back the hood of his coat and looking around at Ron.

 

“You like?” Ron sniffed heavily and dabbed at his running nose.  
“You look rough,” Severus raised one eyebrow pityingly. “Surely you should be in bed?”

“Pah,” Ron shook his head, sounding congested to the rafters, and swallowed on his sore throat.

“Have you taken something?”

“You’re so caring,” Ron rolled his eyes and motioned for him to take his coat off. “How come you’re down south, is somethin’ da’matter?”

 

Severus fought down his smile at the way the redhead’s cold made everything sound infuriatingly cute. He unzipped his coat and handed it over, making an apologetic face at the way raindrops trickled off the waterproof fabric onto one of Ron’s rugs.

 

“Dey were £2.99 from Ikea,” he shrugged. “Easy sorted.”

“Sorry, did I interrupt?” Severus motioned to the clearly paused film.

Ron shook his head adamantly but brought on another sneeze. When he had recovered himself he spoke croakily, “Nah, just an olb favourite innid.”

 

Ron smiled at him and Severus gave him a small one in return.

 

“I came down on business for Helen… though I would be lying if I said I did not accept it purely because you lived here… I thought it was high time I shouldered the weight of travelling so far.”  
“You apparadeb?” Ron groaned in frustration at his altered vocabulary. “I hade being sick!”

“Train,” Severus turned and looked nosily about the flat. “I think you should probably sit down, Ron, you do not look particularly healthy… you are swaying.”

“I’b fine!”

 

“You seem as bad a patient as I myself am when ill,” Severus commented. “What were you watching?”  
“D’Webbing Singer,” Ron strode around and turned off the television. “Seen it hundrebs of dibes. Lobe it. Goob music.”

 

“Ron?” Severus’ eyes caught sight of the glass of potion steaming slightly on the table. “Have you taken anything for the flu?”

“Yes,” Ron lied.

“Then what’s that?” Severus pointed curtly to the potion.

 

There was a groan and Ron flopped down on the sofa. “Habe it. Tasbes like sproubs.”

 

Severus sighed and sat down next to him, and reached out to push the ever-too-long fringe out of Ron’s eyes. “You’re roasting,” he admonished.

“I’b fine!” Ron repeated, though it was exposed as the lie it was by the fact he then broke into a hacking cough.

 

“Poor mite,” Severus said with dripping sarcasm. “Close your eyes; I have something for you…”

 

It was a mark of how comfortable they had become around one another that Ron immediately obeyed. Throughout January he had travelled to the north no less than seven times, each time inching closer to Severus though never quite feeling normal about it. Seven visits had brought seven bouts of toe curling orgasms, heated cuddling and whispered words. Whatever it was that they could not define, neither of them wanted to give it up.

 

“Just lean your head back,” Severus gently guided it, and making sure Ron still had his eyes closed, reached for the potion on the coffee table.

 

Ron obediently sat with his eyes closed. “What is it?”

“Well, I think you will find it most satisfactory,” Severus moved quickly then –he pinched the end of Ron’s nose and did not let go, causing the redhead to involuntarily open his mouth in natural response to having his airway blocked, into which Severus quickly poured the potion, taking advantage of the parted lips.

 

Feeling the vile fluid hit the back of his throat, Ron could only swallow to avoid choking himself and he gagged as soon as the viscous liquid was gone, the inside of his nose burning from where Severus had pinched it.

  
“Nod fair!” he flew to his feet and glared at Severus.

“Well, you had to take it,” Severus got to his feet and retreated to the back of the sofa, knowing his move had been crafty and cruel.

“I woulb hab!” Ron protested.

“ _Do_ shut up, Weasley, and give me a welcoming kiss,” Severus turned on the silk to his voice, knowing it was more likely to win Ron round than an apology.

Ron glowered at him for just a moment before clambering onto the sofa on his knees and reaching up to place a clumsy kiss on Severus’ lips.

 

As soon as he made contact he heard the warning ding from the Floo of an incoming firecall. “Duck it!”

 

Doing the only thing he could think of to protect the meant-to-be-dead man standing very much alive in his living room, Ron gave him an almighty shove, dislodging his lover and sending him crashing down to the floor in surprise.

 

“Floo!” Ron hissed, choking on the effort to pronounce the word properly and spun round in time to see George’s face popping up out of the flames.

 

He hoped to Merlin that Severus had heard his explanation and stayed down, because George would be able to see the entire room from his viewpoint.

 

“Hey, you feel better yet?” He asked hopefully. “Can I come over?”

“Nod yeb,” Ron laid on his pathetic tone thickly, even though he could already feel the potion clearing his ailment. “Anb I jus’ god a massage from work. God to go in.”

“But you’re sick!” George protested. “You should tell them to knob off and let me come over, I have gossip!”

“Aboud who?” Ron’s eyebrows pricked interestingly, impressed with the dead silence from behind the sofa.

 

“Just saw Hermione in the Alley,” George looked at him sadly.

“Oh,” Ron sniffed, his face falling.

 

He had been doing so well, but with the onslaught of the awful dark weather and the flu, he had been in his flat for three days and had grown depressed over the whole situation again. At points he had even been tempted to firecall and beg her to take him back, just so things would be normal again.

 

“She had a… well. What can only be described as an explicitly huge rock on her finger…” George sighed. “And I… it’s in the Prophet, of course, just found it with the delivery… I thought you might want a heads up. I’m so sorry, Ron.”

 

Ron sat back on his heels staggered. “She… gedding marrieb?” his voice was a desolate gasp. “I…”

“Look, let me come over,” George pleaded.

“No!” Ron shook his head adamantly. “I’b goin’ to worb. See you lader.”

“Ron, you don’t have to do this alone-” George protested.

 

 _I’m not alone, I have Severus…_ Ron got to his feet and waved goodbye to his brother, who sighed with resignation and pulled back out of the fire, and the flames turned orange again. Ron grabbed his wand from the coffee table and instantly blocked it, and sent up the anti-apparition wards for the rooms and garden. He slowly turned round and found himself looking at a very pale and angry-faced Severus.

 

“Sorry,” Ron breathed through his nose, the congestion was breaking up and disorientating him.

“You just leave your Floo unblocked?” Severus seethed. “That could have been disastrous!”

“I’b sorry!” Ron looked at the floor. “If I’d known you were coming… hey, my voice is back!”

 

He sniffed heavily and realised his airways were suddenly gloriously clear.

  
“Congratulations,” Severus spat, and turned instantly for his coat where Ron had hung it up.

  
“You’re leaving?” Ron’s voice was a shocked whine. “No, Severus, don’t go, I’ve blocked it and I’ve put up the anti-apparition wards. Nobody’s getting in unless they knock on the door and you’d have time to hide.”

 

“I was idiotic to come here,” Severus swung the coat about his shoulders, sending droplets of rain everywhere, and Ron closed his eyes as the shower flicked at him.

“Please, Severus, stay, it was stupid of me, I know, I should have blocked it the second you turned up.”

“It was stupid of _me_ to even bother coming, this is… what are we _doing,_ Ron?”

 

Ron just looked at him nervously, his stomach swept up in a wave of nausea with the fear that Severus was about to tell him he never wanted to see him again, to stay away from Scotland.

 

“We should stop,” the words were damning and broke Ron’s heart even harder than the news George had imparted.

“Please-” he got out, but Severus had already swung open the front door and the sound of the pounding rain pervaded the flat.

“I’m going home,” Severus declared. “And don’t follow me.”

 

Ron took two steps forward but stopped, seeing the shadow of the man he had once known Severus Snape to be rearing in the dark eyes, anger raging through the skin which he had only really seen indifferent or gripped in the throes of sex since they had found one another again.

 

“Why are you angry at _me_?” the childish question slipped from Ron’s lips before he could stop it.

Severus looked at him incredulously, “Because, you _fucking_ imbecile, I have risked everything I have managed to build in eight years for you… I let myself be seduced by you and risked sending everything, the peace, the sanity, into oblivion.”

“But I… you contacted _me_!” Ron’s own temper flared then, because he refused to be held accountable for something that Severus had kept asking for. “You’re the one that always says ‘come back to me!’ in that fucking sexy voice!”

 

“I will not make that mistake again,” Severus drew himself up to his full height and broadened his shoulders with his upper lip curling, and once upon a time, Ron would have balked at such a show of intimidation.

 

But, at twenty-six and having faced down more dark wizards than most of the magical community had swallowed cream teas, Ron wasn’t standing for it. “You can’t intimidate me, Severus, I’m not some cocky little Gryffindor shit any more,” he hissed. “I’m just as accomplished as you were, just as strong. Stronger, probably. So don’t you _dare_ look down your nose at me! And at least, if you want to fucking argue, close the door. Someone could see you from the pavement.”

 

Ron expected him to storm out, but instead the door slammed with a wall-shaking crash and the man turned back to him, face even angrier than before.

 

“You take advantage where you know you can get away with it,” Severus hissed. “You know I am willing, starved of human affection, you know I will give you what you want.”

 

The words cut deep and Ron’s mouth opened but no words came out.

 

 _He doesn’t really think I’m just using him, does he? Does he think I just…_ Ron searched blindly for the memories which would show him if he had given Severus such a bad opinion of himself.

 

When none came his temper flared again knowing that Severus wanted to think the worst of him. “I could say the same of you,” he jutted out his unshaven jaw and folded his arms over his chest.

“ _Excuse me_?” One eyebrow rose dangerously.

“You, you’re up there in Scotland, you know what I’m going through and yet you don’t care, my heartache is getting you sex and you just pack me off back down south and don’t have to deal with the rest of it.”

 

It was Severus’ turn to be cut by the knifing words and he was too out of practice to keep it from his face. Ron gave him a stare which clearly detailed he’d be giving as good as he could get if Severus wanted to throw unfair accusations around.

 

_I never thought I would meet such a match in another Gryffindor redhead…_

 

Severus took a few deep breaths and forced his temper down into the safe in his chest. “Even if we have both spoken words we do not mean, you _have_ to conclude Ron that this cannot go on forever… you can’t keep traipsing up and down the country and nor can we continue to meet without our feelings deepening.”  
“And you’d have a problem with that, is that what you’re saying?” Ron asked hoarsely.

 

Beaten, Severus looked at the floor. “I am not sure.”

“So basically, Snape, that whole little show is because you’re scared of your feelings for me?” Ron’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his mouth parted a little incredulously.

“It wasn’t a show,” Severus snapped.

“Funny,” Ron snorted. “Looked like it. You do like a bit of the old drama, don’t you?” He laced his voice with heavy exasperation. “This place isn’t fucking bombproof, Severus. I’m probably going to get it in the neck from my neighbours for the almighty racket you just created. Happy?”

 

“No,” Severus kept his dark eyes on the floor, blood boiling at being made to feel like a naughty schoolboy.

 

Ron heaved a sigh and reached up to scratch at the growing stubble which he never normally let remain past a five ‘o clock shadow. “I think we just had our first fight,” he couldn’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. “You going to take that hulking Hagrid impressionist coat off and let me make you a cup of tea so we can talk about this like adults? Or do you just want to shout and slam some more doors?”

 

“When did you become so bloody condescending?” Severus muttered and shrugged the coat from his shoulders again. “And does this really look Hagrid-esque?”

“Undoubtedly,” Ron said sadly.

“How _is_ Hagrid?” Severus put the coat back on the hook.

“Fine, still terrorising generations with Blast-Ended Skrewts,” Ron shuddered visibly and stepped forward to the kitchen, but Severus caught him about the waist.

 

They met in a tentative, apologetic kiss and stayed close, almost nose-to-nose. Ron looked into dark eyes and wondered what they held, what Severus would decide. He almost wanted to throw himself on his knees and beg the man not to end what they had.

 

 _Yeah, that’s really mature. Begging. And you shouldn’t have to beg anybody to be with you, Ron._ He reminded himself of that, it was the mantra he had adopted to stop himself from firecalling Hermione. It would work just as well for Severus, no matter how attached he had become to the snarky Slytherin ex-convict.

 

“Tea?” he asked, hoping the man didn’t notice the wobble in his voice.

“Yes please,” Severus said in a small voice, his embarrassment at the way his anger had poured out of him growing stronger by the minute.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Ron whispered, flicking his eyes over the pale face. “It’s okay, you know?”

 

He pulled away then and walked lazily into the kitchen, his hips swinging from side to side in loose fitting checked flannel bottoms.

  
“Stop looking at my arse,” he called back airily to Severus, flicking the kitchen light on as it was dark on account of the rain outside.

“I assure you I was _not_ looking at your backside,” Severus cleared his throat and hoped his erection wasn’t showing.

“Yeah yeah, heard it all before,” Ron laughed, and reached for the kettle. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Severus was standing in the doorway.

 

He had always been very perceptive like that, he had always known when he was being watched and when someone was about to drop a bombshell or when they were embarrassed. It was one of the skills which had aided him so well in his career.

 

“How was your review?” Severus asked suddenly.

“Oh, fine, passed with flying colours, didn’t even fuck up on stealth this year, which was shocking considering I had the flu coming on,” Ron turned around and made a little cheering motion with his hands.

“I have to say I’m surprised, after my poor Christmas tree,” Severus smirked, folding his arms as he leant on the doorframe.

“Hey, that fucker had it out for me,” Ron jabbed a finger at him. “Ah, shit, I’m out of milk.”

 

He stood in front of the fridge, the cool air washing over his bare arms and slightly revealed midriff, as the old t-shirt he wore had shrunk in the wash over the years. All thoughts of their argument flew out of his mind as a warm body wrapped around him from behind and hands grazed the bared parts.

 

“Funny, last time I checked people wore clothes which fitted them and only girls got away with showing that off…” Severus dipped his fingers into the waistband of the pyjama bottoms and was delighted to find Ron without underwear. He sank them into wiry auburn curls and let them remain there.

“Well, it shrank in the wash,” Ron muttered defensively. “And I was wearing this when I slept in Gryffindor Tower. It’s doing pretty well I’d say.”

“Even though you are surrounded by the aura of ill, you do look more delicious than normal. I like the too small t-shirt.”

“Is it the beard?” Ron reached up and scratched at it again. “I just got lazy, it’s not staying, it drives me mad.”  
“No. You have not been with enough men to know the pain of stubble burn… you look rugged with it but I am thrilled to hear it will not be a regular feature…”

“Stubble burn?” Ron asked teasingly.

 

The banter was just a continuation of their loosening demeanour around each other. It had been growing steadily since the second visit in January and Ron loved being able to talk to Severus, to fight with him verbally in a way that Hermione had never permitted or even been capable of.

 

Severus kissed into the thick red hair and smiled. “That juice will do if you are not saving it for another occasion.”  
“What possible occasion would I be saving value orange juice for?” Ron laughed. “You’re odd.”

“Why?”  
“You could have just said ‘if you don’t mind I’ll have that’.”

“Well, after forty-six years I cannot instantly adapt my language to adapt to your style of conversation.”

“See!” Ron laughed. “You have to make everything ten times longer and complicated than it has to be!”

“I do not.”

“You could have said, ‘I don’t’.”

“Am I allowed the juice or not?”

“No,” Ron sniffed airily. “Not until you ask in a fashion more suited to the times.”

“Are you serious?”

“Perfectly.”

 

Severus growled and took a deep breath. “Bloody Gryffindor,” he muttered under his breath. “Fine. Can I have that, please?”

 

“Yes,” Ron said brightly, and reached for it. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

 

Saying nothing, Severus stepped back and looked at the cupboards. “Where do you keep your glasses?”

“Not going to drink it out of the carton?” Ron licked his lips teasingly.

“Certainly not, just because you wish me to speak casually does not mean I’m prepared to compromise my manners,” Severus sent him a glare.

 

Ron just laughed and stepped around him and reached for an upturned glass on the drying rack. “Here. Knock yourself out.”

“You would be surprised at how accurate that actually is,” Severus accepted the carton from him carefully. “Another effect from the venom, I have to be very careful about the amount of strong vitamin doses I take in. More than one glass of this and I would be rolling around on the floor in agony. My gut isn’t what it used to be.”

“God, how do you live with everything that did to you?” Ron asked incredulously. “It seems to have affected everything.”  
“It should have killed me,” Severus’ voice dropped to a morose level. “Of course it affected everything.”  


He replaced the juice in the fridge without waiting for Ron to prompt or offer to do it for him, thinking he should adopt the same kind of independence within Ron’s home as the redhead had done in the pub.

 

Ron handed him his glass with a worried smile and said, “Come on, let’s go and sit down for a bit.”  
“Do you feel better?” Severus enquired, edging around the sofa, once more letting his eyes drift around the décor and the items Ron had chosen to keep in his living space.

“Do you like it?” Ron asked nervously.

“Why would it matter if I did not?” Severus raised an eyebrow and drank.

“Well… I… if you were to come around more often, if you didn’t like it… oh!” Ron jumped up where he had sat. “You haven’t been introduced!”

 

He spun to the large cage in the corner and gave one of the bars a noisy ping. “Oi, lazy mares, get up, we’ve got company!”

 

Severus watched with bemused wonder as Ron threw himself down on his knees, his arse crack sneaking into appearance as his bottoms slid down. And then Ron was up and turning round.

  
“Right, Severus, Peaches,” he lifted up the rat in his left hand. “And Penny.” He waved his right.

 

Ron reached up and put them on his shoulders before sitting back down.

“Why is she curly?” Severus asked, squinting his eyes to check he was seeing straight.  
“She’s a rex,” Ron said looking sideways as the rat stuffed her nose in his ear. “And disgusting, ew, Pen, ear wax isn’t for rats.”

“I think she disagrees,” Severus watched the rat with an interested smile.  
“Are you alright with them?” Ron looked at him sharply. “Not everyone likes them, I know.”  
“I’m a grown man, Weasley,” Severus narrowed his eyes. “Why would I be scared of something like that?”

 

“Fine,” Ron grinned, and reached up to grab Penny and plonked her in Severus’ lap. “Yeah, a rex means her whiskers and coat will curl, it’s pretty cool.”

 

Severus looked down at the rat in his lap and watched her sniff at the fabric of his trousers, which she instantly tested with her teeth.

 

“Sorry,” Ron rolled his eyes. “No manners.”

“I must smell of train,” Severus excused her, and reached out. “Can I?”

 

Ron looked at him with a blush of pleasure and nodded. “Sure, she’s easy. Not like this one,” he jabbed towards Peaches. “Peaches thinks she rules the roost, just so you know.”

 

Severus enclosed his hands around the soft, warm animal and was surprised when she didn’t wiggle. Her tail curled around his wrist and her nose sniffed hopefully at the air.  
  
“You should get used to him,” Ron said softly in the rat’s direction. “Well. I hope you should.”

 

Severus looked sideways at him apprehensively. “I… we should talk about that…”  
“Well, yes, that was the point of sitting down on the sofa.”

“I… look, I can’t explain how it felt to have to hide like that… I removed myself from your world so I wouldn’t feel the shame of having to be pushed behind a sofa…”

 

“I’m sorry about doing that,” Ron grimaced. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep you hidden.”  
“You did the right thing,” Severus told him quietly. “It was quick thinking even if it did bloody hurt.”

 

Penny scrabbled slightly in his hands and he flattened his palms and let her sit on them like a perch. He was totally enthralled by her, having never been so close to a rat as tamed as she was.

 

“Do you like?” Ron asked interestedly. “Harry can’t even get near the cage without shuddering, which is weird. I’m like that with spiders but… well, nobody in their right mind would want to cuddle one of them. These two, however, give great cuddles.”

“I thought you said they were porky?” Severus looked at him.  
“Shh!” Ron hissed. “Don’t let them hear that!”

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “They’re rats, Ron; I doubt they understand the finer points of our conversation.”

“Hmph,” Ron muttered. He reached out and took Penny, then moved to put them both in the cage. “You say that, but then you’ve never seen a rat do a dance when promised prawns for dinner.”

“You feed them prawns?” Severus couldn’t help the way his eyebrows nearly shot off his face and Ron laughed.

“Yeah yeah,” he reached up and scratched his chin. “Heard it all before, spoiled, blah blah blah. At least they’ve got a better life than being chopped up ruthlessly for some disgusting potion or whatever.”

 

“I suppose that is a very valid point,” Severus sighed. “Considering I have used their ancestor’s insides more times than I care to remember.”

Ron made a face. “I hated that at school. Chucking some poor creature’s guts or blood into a cauldron just for own advancement or improvement.”

 

“That’s life,” Severus shrugged. “You eat meat, don’t you? Same principle.”  
“I’ve tried being a vegetarian,” Ron threw himself back down and put his feet up on the coffee table. “But then my bitching mother got the idea into her head to make an entire pile of sausage sandwiches one morning and… well. You can only imagine the carnage.”

 

Severus snorted and leaned back into the sofa.

 

“So…” Ron seemed determined to get back to the conversation at hand. “Look, Severus. I didn’t _ask_ you to come down here. You did it by yourself and you can’t blame me for that.”  
“I know,” Severus sighed. “I knew I was taking a risk and I almost walked away before I knocked.”

“I will come to you,” Ron said decisively. “I get that you don’t want to rejoin our world and support that, if it’s what you want.”  
“But… it will be so hard for you,” Severus pointed out. “You will have to keep this secret from everybody.”  
Ron shrugged. “I can do it. It won’t be like I’m coming up every night, I have to work and such. It’ll be a weekend thing and we’re lucky in that it’s not unusual for me to take off on my own.”  
“It’s not?” Severus asked interestedly.

  
“No. I often used to disappear on my own for a walk or whatever. It’s not unusual, my family are used to me being out of contact, I promise.”

“And you are happy to keep travelling so much?”  
“As long as there’s a cup of tea and a shag at the end of it…” Ron smirked.

 

Severus did not return his smile but looked down at his knees. “Is this just about sex to you? Honestly, tell me. If it is, I… I’m not particularly sure that will change anything on my behalf, so don’t feel you have to lie Ron.”

“I’m not sure _what_ it’s about,” Ron whispered, and reached out for Severus’ hand. “You?”

“Same,” Severus said, his head twitching irritably.  
“Well, then let’s just carry on until we know more, right?” Ron shrugged. “Why stop now? This could either turn into something bad or something great. I’m not going to stop on the assumption it’ll go rotten, in case I’m chucking away something amazing.”

“But what about the fact that I am meant to be six feet under, hmm? Are you prepared to live that lie for however long it takes this to burn out?”

 

Severus’ prickly words made Ron’s throat burn over again and he looked down at the coffee table, feeling like a chastened five year old.

 

“I don’t know, Severus. I don’t have all the answers.”

“Neither do I,” Severus murmured sadly.

 

Ron rubbed his thumb across Severus’ palm, tickling the cool skin. “I like having you in my flat.”

“I like being in your flat,” Severus admitted, still not raising his eyes. “It’s very calming in here.”

“Good, I was going for that,” Ron grinned, and heaved a breath in anticipation of lightening the suddenly dour tone. “Fancy coming for a cuddle in bed, now you’re here?”

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “Now which one of us is renaming our unions inappropriately?”  
“I genuinely did mean a cuddle,” Ron laughed. “I still feel a bit rough; I need a lie down anyway. If you’re there, it’ll just be all the better.”

“You are sure?” Severus asked him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ron frowned.  
“Your personal space… I know that you view this as your new start from Hermione. I would not like to taint it for you.”

 

Her named jerked Ron back to the news George had brought and he sagged. “I’d forgotten what George said…”

Severus looked at him sadly. “Come on, then, bed.”

 

Ron got to his feet and led Severus into his bedroom. “It’s a bit of a dump at the minute, sorry. I’ve been on sickness stakeout for three days and it really needs a tidy and a clean.” He doubled back for his wand and jabbed it at the floor, which was littered with snotty tissues. They all fell into the bin by the door and then he sent a swift disinfectant spell over the surfaces. “Don’t want you getting ill from my leftovers,” Ron explained.

 

Severus said nothing but was transfixed with the bedroom. There was one long window high up in the wall, the only part of the room which was above the ground, and the bed dominated the space. The bedcovers were made of a sort of taffeta teal material –never quite green and never quite blue- that set off the turquoise walls, with thick, luxurious cream cotton sheets and pillows.

 

“Mum picked them out,” Ron blushed noticing Severus’ lingering gaze. “Had to keep her happy somehow so I let her pick out the bed stuff and the towels.”

“Mothers tend to be better at such things anyway,” Severus gave Ron’s hand a squeeze.

“And they are nice, I’ll admit, makes me feel like some slutty whore having such a decadent bed,” Ron laughed. “Though, that probably _wasn’t_ my mother’s intention.”

 

Severus bent down to unlace his boots as Ron clambered onto the mattress. He did not miss when Ron’s hand slid surreptitiously under one of the pillows and grabbed something. Severus saw the flash of glass and realised what it must be.

  
“I thought you threw that away?” he asked enquiringly, and Ron gave up hiding the perfume bottle in his hand.

“I tried,” Ron replied miserably. “But it just… when it came to it the liquid wouldn’t fall out of the bottle.”  
“Probably would have helped if the bottle had been upside down, yes?” Severus’ tone was laced with slight disappointment.

 

Ron noticed. “Does this bother you?”

 

Severus worked off his jumper and laid it on the small chair next to the wardrobe. He left the t-shirt he had on beneath it on and instead slipped off his jeans. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge, almost groaning at the soft weave of the sheets and thick mattress which pressed into his thighs. “Even if it did, Ron, it doesn’t matter. You should keep that until you are ready to throw it away.”

“But still,” Ron sighed, and reached out to set it on the bedside table. “I’m sorry if it does.”

 

Ron pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of Severus’ neck and rested his hands on his sides. “I wish I didn’t care any more.”

“Of course you care,” Severus turned and lifted his legs into the bed. “Nobody would get over eight years in two months.

 

Ron lay down on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Guess not. She… I can’t believe she’s engaged again. And by the sounds of it wearing a rock far bigger than the one I gave her.”

Severus rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, pulling the duvet up over them. “She obviously feels for the man she is with…”

“Mm,” Ron agreed with a resigned sigh. “I know. And if she was with him for a year…”

“Does it not drive you mad that she cheated on you?” Severus asked curiously, reaching out to fiddle with the hem of Ron’s t-shirt. “I… well. As much as I hate bringing the past into anything… when Lily so much as _looked_ at Potter I would bristle. And we were never more than friends.”

 

“Except in your mind, where she was much more,” Ron excused him quietly, finding it odd to hear Severus talk about his past like that. “It does make me angry, but at least I… well. She found someone else. She didn’t dump me to spite me, she found someone she thinks she loves more.”  
“You are very forgiving of her,” Severus told him.

“George says that too,” Ron closed his eyes.

 

Severus said no more and dropped his arm, letting his head fall into the pillow, suddenly feeling tired. He yawned and Ron looked at him. “Sleepy?”

“For no reason, I only sat on a train…” Severus rolled his eyes at himself.

“Lots to look at though, its mind overstimulation,” Ron shrugged. “They teach us all about that stuff at work, how we aren’t allowed to research and actively hunt or protect on the same day. So many fucking rules. I swear you could breathe and break a regulation.”

 

“Glamorous, though,” Severus smiled.

“Yeah, dead glamorous, freezing your bollocks off in a tent playing fifty games of ‘In My Pants’ to try and stay awake.”  
“… Playing what?”

“You’ve never played ‘In My Pants’?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Not to my knowledge, unless I’m thinking of a completely different game… but then you also came to me an anal virgin so I very much doubt we’re talking about the same thing.”  


Ron snorted. “No, considering I always play with Harry, we’re _definitely_ not thinking about the same thing, Severus.”

“So what is it?”

“Well,” Ron smiled. “You basically think of funny film titles or song titles which sound funny tacked onto the phrase ‘In My Pants’.”

“And that’s funny why?”

“Just… right. Imagine you’re in a flimsy tent in the outer Hebrides, with only you sleeping bag, a tin of beans to eat and your wanking hand as entertainment, and tell me that someone coming out with ‘Hand Jive in my pants’ isn’t going to make you crack up laughing with the implications.”

 

“You aren’t old enough to know what the Hand Jive is,” Severus taunted him sleepily.

“Ha!” Ron laughed. “I see that smile on your lips. And of course, the ultimate when I’m playing with Harry, is, of course, ‘Dirty Harry in my pants’ and then things get silly, lots of gay jokes and throwing of various objects across the tent… oh, _so_ glamorous.”

 

Severus said nothing and Ron looked at him, surprised to find his face screwed up in concentration.

 

“Severus?”

“What?”

“Trying to think up things to match to ‘In My Pants’?”

“No,” Severus lied.

 

Ron’s snorting laughter shook the bed.

 

***

Ron didn’t sleep. He curled up on his side and watched Severus sleep instead. He had never been as fascinated by an act as simple as breathing in and out before watching Severus do it. The man’s face was so peaceful as he slept that there was a beautiful vulnerability about him. Silky hair spilled out on the pillow and Ron was almost squealing about the fact that it would undoubtedly end up infused with jasmine.

 

 _Gods, he’s just so…_ There was a little whimper from between Severus’ lips and Ron held his breath to see where it would lead, but he simply moved them a little, fluttered his long eyelashes and nuzzled further into the pillow. _Sweet Merlin I just want to keep him here._

Unable to resist, Ron leant forward and pressed his lips softly to Severus’, expecting to be growled at or pushed away, but to his surprise there was a sexual little groan and the lips parted as though they wanted more.

 

 _Fuuuuck yeah. God._ Ron shifted closer and gave Severus a proper kiss, moving his hand up to the side of Severus’ face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. Another groan sounded and Ron detected a definite twitch of the hips hidden beneath the sumptuous duvet. Feeling daring, Ron pressed up against the sleeping form and reached in between them to palm over – _Christ does he find me that attractive?!-_ an already half-interested cock.

 

Ron occupied the sleepy lips again and massaged in slow circles, feeling blood flow to the arousal beneath his palm with a tingling pleasure in his own veins. Practicing his kissing technique whilst Severus wasn’t coherent enough to interrupt, he moved his head somewhat rhythmically thrusting his tongue to rake around the teeth which he had never paid much attention to.

 

At school they had just been another part which made up the man’s unpleasantness, but now older, Ron felt ashamed of just how much he had judged Severus on his appearance. _As if anyone can help the teeth they’re born with… like my own are fucking perfect…_

He pulled back a little, checking to see if Severus was still down but wasn’t surprised to see eyelids cracked open and deep eyes burning out at him.

“Don’t let me stop you,” the words were slurred with slumber.

“I didn’t plan on,” Ron grinned, and then layered his body weight half on top of Severus and forced his thigh up in into Severus’ crotch.

 

There was instantly a groan and hands in his hair and Ron put his lips to good use again. For once he could think of nothing more than pleasuring the man in his arms, his own growing erection meant nothing. Severus barely stirred from his original position and closed his eyes again, letting sensual little sighs escape his lips when Ron moved his leg to create friction.

 

Deciding to try his luck even further, Ron put his lips to Severus’ ear and kissed there. “You going to come for me?”

“Uh-huh,” Severus was too out of it to respond with bigger words and Ron nearly died when hips began thrusting against him.

“Of course you are,” Ron whispered. “You want to because you love the fact I’ve just woken you up by giving you a hard on…”

 

There was a groan and a loud gasp when Ron reached down in between them and slid his hand straight through the waistband of clinging underwear and wrapped around the erection, now fully-fledged.

“So hard and hot…” Ron tried not to think about what he was saying because it would only make him feel like a twat –instead he concentrated on what would make him harder if he were the one being woken up with a hand job. He grasped harder and hoped Severus would point out if he was doing it wrong.

 

But the gentle groaning and fluttering eyelashes only hinted that he was getting it correct once more, and he spent the next kiss he gave wondering if that was because he was talented, because it easy or just because Severus found him utterly irresistible.

 

“Why are you so hard for me, hmm?” He teased, capturing an earlobe between his teeth. Moving his thumb to press into the top of the cock he held, he groaned at the leaking wetness.

 

Severus didn’t answer but raised his chin clearly intimating a kiss and Ron complied, moaning gently into it whilst his tongue happily danced with the sleepy but no longer completely dormant mirroring muscle. The hands in hair tightened.

 

Recognising the quickening breath and faster speeding hips, Ron smiled slightly and settled into a languid, firm movement up and down the hot cock and practiced his wrist stamina.

 

_Is it wrong I see this as practice? Should I call it experience instead?_

Dragged from his musings by the sudden opening of Severus’ mouth and the presence of some wheezing gasps, Ron looked down at the man’s face and watched as his brow creased under the pressure whilst the thrusting against his hip reached a peak. And then the thin lips parted, his name was groaned in a sensual hiss and Severus exploded over his hand, body arching up in a curl which must have hurt his spine, pale face lost in a whirl of bliss which Ron wanted to imprint on his memory forever.

 

“Sweet Jesus,” the breathy admonition floated up as Severus huffed his shock at the pleasure still twinging through his shaft.

“And here I thought you weren’t a religious man,” Ron left his hand in Severus’ pants but sent the other to push back dark hair from a slightly sweaty brow.

“I think religion considers homosexuality a sin,” Severus breathed, closing his eyes and nuzzling back into the pillow.

“You wanna go back to sleep?” Ron smiled indulgently.

“Mmmmmmmm,” Severus moaned.

 

And in seconds, he had. Ron extricated his hand and gave it a surreptitious wipe on the bedsheets, which needed washing anyway. Then he gently shifted off Severus’ body and rolled onto his back, reaching for his own aching erection. He had already made a mess of his clothes from leaking insanely whilst he touched Severus, and so when he reached orgasm in what he thought might be an actual record of only five firm strokes of his cock, he didn’t give a damn about what streamed everywhere.

 

_Fucking amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing… oh my sweet God… fuck…_

 

His veins burst alive with thudding blood and he felt hot and fit enough to run a marathon. Instead of sating into the bed like usual, he found himself springing out of it.

 

_Screw it. He’s asleep. The flat’s secure._

 

Ron headed for the wardrobe.

 

***

_I had the most wonderful dream that he attacked me in my sleep and brought me off…_

Severus stretched in the bed and felt sideways for Ron, but only grasped empty sheets. The odd metallicky duvet ruffled on top of him and he ran his hands over the top, letting his skin glide across it.

 

_Gods… he just screams ‘fuck me’… every single little thing about him… where is he, I want that tight little backside right now…_

He cracked open his eyes and was surprised to see the narrow strip of window letting sunlight hit the opposite wall. The weather had cleared up and he had to squint into the bedroom. It was very obviously devoid of human life other than himself and he sat up, letting the duvet fall down with a repetition of that glorious rustling sound. Then his eyes focussed and he saw glittering words hanging in the air.

 

 _Ah, to be a wizard,_ he thought wryly, and read the message dangling in the air for him.

 

‘ _Welcome back Sleeping Beauty. You didn’t dream the wank. You enjoyed yourself. You electrified me to the point of madness so I’ve gone to burn it off in a run as the weather’s cleared up. I’ll be back soon. You are safe here with the wards up and the Floo blocked to incoming visitors, so stay, make yourself at home and eat whatever you want, touch what you want, watch what you want… my home is yours. R x’_

His sarcastic side made him roll his eyes at the sentiment but really it touched him to his very core that Ron trusted him enough to leave him amongst all of his possessions and alone with his pets. Pushing the duvet aside, Severus got out of the bed and felt the sticky remnants of what Ron had done to him in his underwear. He couldn’t help the filthy smile which blossomed on his lips as he reached for his trousers and stepped into them.

 

Feeling warm from his sleep he didn’t bother reaching for his jumper like he usually would have, leaving the Mark on his forearm that Ron had never passed comment on uncovered. He opened the bedroom door and peered nervously into the living room, but it was as deserted as the bedroom. He relaxed his shoulders and caught sight of himself in the mirror over the fireplace.

 

_Good Godric… that’s what they mean by that ‘just shagged’ look… and he didn’t even… Christ, Severus, you’re really over the fucking barrel for this one…_

His hands flew up and flattened the back of his hair and then stretched his arms up completely in a yawn. He felt extraordinarily strange acting so very normally in Ron’s flat. It was then that he realised he was being watched by two very interested rats. With a slight smile he sauntered over to the cage and tickled a belly through the bars.

 

“I can see why he likes you so much, you’re good company…” he jumped at the bout of loud clicking which burst out of the rat he remembered as Peaches. “Alright…” he didn’t like the way she jumped down the bars with a definite gleam in her eyes

 

Severus turned away and ambled up to Ron’s book shelf, taking in the books which sat on there. Eyes raked over familiar titles and then Severus’ heart gave a great lurch.

 

_‘Hogwarts: A History –Millennium Edition updated to include the legacy of The Battle of Hogwarts’._

His throat grew dry as he looked at the spine of the book and thought of all the details it would contain.

 

_The dead, the truth, the fucking opinions…_

 

Nearly everything Severus had hidden from for eight years was sat on the bookshelf in front of him, seemingly begging to be opened and positively _devoured._ His hand was itching to reach out and touch it, to open the cover and let himself be educated in everything he had missed. But then he began to feel slightly sick.

 

He was distracted from the horrifying sight of the book by a dinging noise, and his eyes widened as they snapped to the Floo, which burned green.

 

_He said he… shit…_

 

But his fears were quickly allayed by the fact a bright voice suddenly trilled to the room.

“Magical Courier Delivery for Mr. Ron Weasley! Accept or Decline?”

 

Severus froze, wondering what he should do. _It only wants a confirmation._ “Accept.”

 

An object shot out of the flames and then they died, leaving a very large bunch of flowers on the rug in front of the hearth. Surprising anger flared in Severus’ belly as he stooped to pick them up, wondering who on earth Ron was receiving flowers from. He caught sight of the card and read it nosily.

 

_‘Just read the Prophet. Can’t believe it. Continuing tradition, here are your flowers. Outrageously coloured because we guessed you’d need cheering up. H & G.’_

Severus looked at the bouquet and raised an eyebrow at the blooms.

 

 _Why on earth is Potter sending him flowers?_ Severus would have recognised that messy scrawl anywhere; he didn’t need the confirmation in the initials on the bottom of the card. He sniffed the perfume wafting from the cellophane and tissue paper wrapped stems and wondered what he should do with them. However, he didn’t have time to move because there was another dinging noise and the voice came again, stupidly cheery.

 

“Magical Courier Delivery for Mr. Ron Weasley! Accept or Decline?”

“Accept,” Severus said immediately, and rested the flowers on the sofa waiting to see what would come through the second time.

 

A box shot out onto the rug and Severus saw that there was a note on top of it but that the lid had come undone in the process of travel. He crouched down next to it and thought he recognised the handwriting.

 

_‘Ron,_

_I found this the other day in storage at my parents’ house, I thought you might want it._

_Hermione’._

Severus growled at the note and nearly ripped it off the box to throw in the fire.

“How fucking dare she? Like he really needed this from her today!” Severus remained crouching by the box and something caught his eye in the opened lid.

 

Curiously he peeled up the half and focussed on what turned out to be an old copy of _Witch Weekly._ What surprised him, though, was that on the cover there was a shot of Harry and Ron, much younger, half wrapped around one another in a friendly embrace. He opened the box all the way and tugged the magazine out, his guilt at snooping totally forgotten. Looking at the date he saw that the magazine was from 1999, the year after the battle.

 

He flipped the magazine open and found the article, questioning both of them on their lives and Severus couldn’t believe that either of them would ever have consented to give such a gut rotting interview. He ignored the words, lest he read something that he wanted to remain ignorant of, but the pictures truly gripped his attention. Ron looked so much younger, like Severus remembered him from Hogwarts, and he couldn’t deny how much more attractive the twenty-something version was. Ron had filled out admirably. Severus glanced down at the box and saw there was another magazine. He got down on his knees and placed the first next to him on the floor, reaching for the second.

 

His eyes went wide as he saw the title: _‘Witch Weekly’s 100 Most Eligible Wizards: Unzipped’_. With an open mouth he flipped open the front cover and came face to face with a barely dressed Quidditch player. There was only one reason that the magazine would be in the box.

 

 _Alright then… so in…_ He flipped back and checked the date, _1999 Ron was considered one of the 100 Most Eligible Wizards?! Ha!_

 

A smile cracked onto his face as he flipped through, shocked to see Oliver Wood smeared indecently over a broom. He couldn’t quite believe how low the number was getting and he still hadn’t come across Ron, or Harry for that matter. And then, hardly accepting it, he hit number two, and there he was.

 

Ron was lounging on a large leather sofa, topless, arms draped over the back and his legs bent wide on the floor with his feet bare. The jeans were light with a rip on the knee. Magazine Ron winked at him. Severus was aware his mouth was open. He flipped over the page apprehensively and made a face as he saw Harry posing with his trophy.

 

 _Bloody ponce._ Severus flipped back to Ron and found the view far more satisfying. But then he heard a key in the lock and jumped to his feet, caught red-handed amidst Ron’s delivery, and he hated how he nervously gulped.

 

Ron pushed the door open, his headphones trailing onto the floor like usual, and looked up.

“Hey, you’re up!” He beamed, kicking the door shut. “I bought lunch? Sure, fish and chips kind of cancels out the run but fuck it… what’s all that?” he frowned.

 

“Uh… you got… well, deliveries,” Severus closed the magazine and lowered it, pointing to the flowers first, and then the box.

“Oh!” Ron laughed, well aware that Severus’ eyes were glued to his sweating figure.

“You shouldn’t run around like that,” Severus muttered with bated breath.  
“What?” Ron snatched up the flowers.

“You must stop traffic, surely?”

 

Ron snorted, burying his nose in the flowers before reaching for the card. “Ah, good old Harry.”

“Why is Potter sending you flowers?” the words sounded so accusatory and Severus cursed his tone.

“Why, jealous?” Ron hooked up an eyebrow and set the bag of food down. “Don’t be. We decided long ago that bad news is shite, and that whenever we got some, we would send each other stupidly expensive flowers to cheer the other up and Hermione and Ginny played along. Just tradition now. What’s that?”

 

“Oh… it… well…”

 

“Severus?” Ron looked at him curiously, tilting his head to see what he was holding.

“This came… it’s from Granger, the top had come open during sending and I… I’m sorry, Ron, I should not have pried.”

“Hey, if the lid was open, it was fair game,” Ron shook his head with smile, sending his sweaty fringe flying.

 

He stepped around the sofa and looked at Hermione’s note. “Bitch,” he hissed, and did exactly what Severus had wanted to do –he tore the note off the lid, screwed it up, and chucked it in the fire. Then he dropped to his knees and looked at what Severus was holding.

“Oh, nice, huh?” he grinned. “I was so thrilled when that came out. Number two baby, second only to a scrawny, specky four-eyes… very clear that anybody who wanted a real man would come back to me…”

 

Severus laughed and sat down on the sofa.

  
“You haven’t found the best one yet,” Ron frowned, looking at the copy on the floor. “That says unzipped but then we got roped into another one for charity… which showed a hell of a lot more. Harry nearly had a fit because in the first draft they sent for approval you could see part of his balls. I nearly busted my gut laughing. So fucking funny. Ah, here it is!”

 

He pulled a magazine out of the box and flipped to the centre fold. “This was done for the charity for the families of the victims of the final battle…”

 

With a flourish he opened the magazine and held it up for Severus to see, obscuring his face in the process.

 

“Holy… Oh, that’s more of Potter than I ever wished to see in my _life,_ Weasley!” Severus burst out, his hand flying over his mouth.

“I’m there too,” Ron said defensively. “What about me?”

“He’s half draped on top of you! Is that meant to comfort me? Why on earth are you half shagging one another?!”

“We’re not,” Ron rolled his eyes and lowered the magazine with a smirk. “I believe the phrase is ‘displaying fraternal affection’.”

“Why on earth would you pose like that?” Severus’ eyes were wide, seeing magazine Ron reclined back on the floor with one leg up and propped up on one arm, completely naked, with Harry sitting bang next to him, barely covering up his most private area and the wiry beginnings of Ron’s auburn thatch of curls were visible at the side of Harry’s stomach. And the thing that Severus really couldn’t get over was the fact that they were holding hands. “Why are you holding his bloody hand?!”

 

“Because they wanted to whip hundreds of witches into a salivating frenzy and get them buying the publication and make lots of money for the charity…” Ron looked at him incredulously. “You don’t know what it was like… someone actually threw knickers at me, Severus, _knickers_ , during a public press conference in the Alley. I’m me, come on… I did what they wanted because I was so fucking shocked anybody wanted my ugly mug in their magazine, their charity release…”

 

Severus threw him a glare and leaned back on the sofa, folding his arms over his chest.

 

“Why is this an issue?” Ron asked slowly, looking from the magazine to Severus. “It was years ago. We both fell out of the top fifty in the eligibility list two years ago, Harry’s still floating somewhere but I’m off the radar.”

“I never expected to find you sprawled about like that,” Severus growled.

 

Ron threw the magazine in the box and got to his feet, muscles groaning. “Look, I’ve got to stretch or I’ll be in agony tomorrow. Get over yourself while I’m gone… you might have been out of the wizarding world for eight years but the rest of us stayed and shouldered what was waiting. Don’t judge me, Severus.”

 

He stomped off into the bathroom and kicked off his trainers.

 

“I’m not judging you!”

 

Ron hadn’t heard Severus following him and he jumped, whirling round to see where he was. He reached down and stretched out his spine, leaning over to the left and wrapping his hands around his ankle.

 

“Well, it sure sounded like it,” he grunted, pressing into the stretch.

“Honestly, I…” Severus trailed off when Ron shifted to the other side and his tracksuit bottoms slipped revealing his arse crack yet again.

 

Ron straightened and kicked his foot up behind him, grabbing hold of his ankle and tugging.

 

“I absolutely cannot have this conversation when you look like that,” Severus huffed as the trousers slipped further, revealing the same curls that had peeped out of the side of Harry, and Ron smiled.

“Whhhhhy?”

“You know why, you impudent little bastard.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me, Severus.”

 

There was only an answering growl and Ron wobbled as strong hands wrapped around him and yanked him tight to Severus’ chest.

 

“Don’t taunt me,” the voice was low and hissing in his ear and Ron shivered with delight. “Any other surprises I should know about, any images of you fucking him on the side of a bus, for example?”

“Christ, you really know how to go over the top, don’t you?” Ron laughed in disbelief but the breath left him when Severus slammed him into the bathroom wall and grabbed his chin in his hand.

 

“I am a possessive man, you know that…”

Ron gave a blink and nodded shakily.

“Then do not joke about such things,” Severus said simply, and released Ron from his grip.

 

He was surprised when the redhead sprung forward and grabbed him again. Severus could smell an earthy aroma which he could only assume was Ron’s sweat and it drove him absolutely mad. Ron kissed him and broke off in a gasp only when the need for oxygen became critical.

 

“Fuck, Severus… you certainly know how to set me off, don’t you?” he thrust his hips forward and pressed his hardened cock into Severus’ stomach.

“As you do with me,” Severus brushed Ron’s fringe away from his eyes.

 

“I think we happen to set each other off just nicely,” Ron let an eyebrow rise with a smirk.

 

Severus just looked at him.

 

“Stay the night?” Ron’s voice was full of gentle pleading.

 

A smouldering kiss was his only answer along with the hand thrust into his pants.


	6. Chapter 6

If one more person wished Ron a Happy Birthday, he was going to scream.

 

If one more person asked him if he was doing anything nice for said birthday, he was going to scream.

 

If one more person threw him an odd look when he growled out his discontent at ever _having_ a birthday, he was going to scream.

 

_If one more FUCKING person so much as **mentions** my birthday, I am going to go postal and blow up the entire Auror HQ._

He glared at the desk.

 

_Screw talking to me, breathing around me might get me there._

“Here’s the Birthday Boy!” Harry bounced through the door to Ron’s office with a big grin on his face.

 

Ron’s eyes flew wide as the anger shot fully through his bloodstream and he leapt to his feet.

“Out of the way,” he snarled, grabbing his wand from the desk and storming round it, not noticing how Harry’s eyes widened.

“Ron, what’s the matter?”

 

“Oh, nothing!” Ron threw out airily and burst into the corridor, turning to his left praying his destination would be vacant when he reached it.

“Really? ‘Cause it kinda looks like you’re about to explode,” Harry darted past him and turned to face Ron, but was forced to start jogging backwards so he wasn’t trampled by the redhead.

“Just shut up,” Ron snapped, and turned the corner.

“What… has she done something, Ron?”

 

There was no question who ‘she’ was and all Ron could manage at the very mention of her was an irritated flick of his head as he set his teeth. Harry was still moving backwards trying to keep up with him.

 

“Then what, I’ve not seen you this worked up in a long time, Ron, has something happened here at work?”

“Harry,” Ron hissed. “Will you _please_ just shut the fuck up?”

 

His haven in sight, Ron sped up and barged past Harry to throw open the door to the training room.

  
“Oh no, not again,” Harry lunged for his arm but Ron was too quick for him, he darted into the room and slammed the door, sealing it shut and activating all the charms within the walls.

 

Harry was left glaring exasperatedly through the reinforced glass observation window to the left of the door. Ron shot him a fierce look and then turned to the darkened room. Being an Auror certainly did have its perks, in that if he ever got angry at work, there was a room specifically designed for him to hurl hexes and curses around, in which to unleash his anger on a fake army of assailants who could never hurt him –all in the name of combat training.

 

He stripped off his outer robe and threw it in a corner, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. His ears caught muffled voices outside the door and turned to see a little group gathered around Harry, who was shrugging helplessly and pleading with his eyes in Ron’s direction.

 

Ron knew why Harry wouldn’t want him in the room, but he was too angry to care. Every time Ron had been in the training room of late he had managed to break supposedly unbreakable charms and parts of the room, such was the intensity of his emotion.

 

He didn’t want to do it with them all standing gawping at him, but Ron wasn’t going to risk opening the door and telling them all to fuck off, lest Harry grab him and wrestle him back to his office.

 

_Fucking bastard thinks because he’s just one poncy level above me he’s got the right to control me. Well fuck off. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!_

He took a deep breath and stood on the marked x behind the magical line he was not allowed to cross during the combat. He gripped his wand, shook his hair back away from his face and said, “Ready.”

 

His word caused the room to black out and he was immediately drenched in the darkness, and although he was perfectly safe he could never deny that it sent prickles of fear down his spine. That wasn’t unwarranted; the room was charmed to throw some most loathed fears at the participants to see how they would react under pressure –there was a very good chance that when the lights came back up he would be faced with a massive replica Acromantula or worse.

 

 _Room hasn’t thrown me spiders for a long time though._ Ron breathed deeply in and out, channelling all his anger into the stick of wood he was clutching in his fingers.

 

_Come and get me you fuckers._

 

There was a blinding flash of light to his left and he spun, shielding his eyes and peering through the white. A jet of red shot out of the nothing and he easily evaded it and sent the same curse back in kind with the marked difference that he hit his target, and the light sucked into itself and then the room swamped red.

 

His eyes swum with the differing hue and he desperately looked around for the next attacker, which came in the form of a dark figure. It raised its wand and began to slash, but Ron recognised the Sectumsempra and blocked it, firing back a deft but powerful stunning hex which blew the figure into the back wall, where it exploded into thin air.

 

The room stayed red and Ron knew why; the anger still pulsing through his veins had been picked up on by the body monitoring sensors, and it played to enhance his difficulty by making him see red as well as feeling it. Growling he sent a stunning sweep across the room unnecessarily and snorted when an assailant hiding behind one of the usual boxes exploded.

 

“Come on then, fucking attack -am I just standing here for nothing?” He goaded the room.

 

Only in the magical world was it possible that the room actually listened to him. Ron’s face burst into a determined grimace as a rain of hexes fired towards him, and he was sweating in no time from dodging and dancing between them, staying behind the magical line. If he crossed it, the game would be over and he would have lost. And Ron was in no mind for losing.

 

He jumped out of the way of a stinging hex and knocked against the wall slightly, throwing himself off balance. What happened next was a stroke of both luck and stupidity, but as he stumbled, the white jet of let aiming for his chest missed only fractionally as he jerked back, fell onto the floor and rolled behind one of his own boxes.

 

It was promptly blown up into an explosion of glitter and shredded tissue paper which completely marred his vision until he blasted it out of the way and the tail-end of the curse caught his next victim. He sprang to his feet, forearms burning with the sensation of being alive and releasing his anger. The training rooms were the only place they were allowed to actively practice slightly darker magic. It was allowed in combat as a last resort but the training rooms were fair game, and it was with that in mind Ron stepped forward and sent a series of slashes across the body of a hunched figure walking slowly across the room, his own Sectumsempra landing perfectly and slicing to the point right across the victim’s chest.

 

Decoys were a favourite of the room, to lull trainees into a false sense of security. He heard a thumping on the glass behind him which was Harry, as usual, reprimanding him for the over use of the cutting spell. Ron wasn’t particularly in the mood to care –it wasn’t against the rules, only Harry’s sense of decency. And Ron was in absolutely no mood for paying heed to someone else’s rules of moral conduct.

 

He shouted as he narrowly avoided a leg-locking spell with a particularly difficult twist of his hips, and sent back a series of stunning pulses, more than was really necessary. The figure fell to the floor and remained stationary; Ron sent a tongue-tying curse and then a full body bind. The figure disappeared and he knew he had passed the test of lenience. Had he killed the figure, the room might well have failed him.

 

 _And we all know the room just fucking LOOOOOVES to fail me!_ Ron’s thoughts were bitter as he twirled and sent a boil-inducing curse at a man holding a dagger. _Because it just loves to tell me I’m fucking shit._

 

Ron had history with the room: it loved to fail him, loved to make him feel shit about his abilities as an Auror. Of course, that was why he kept on going back, because he wanted to prove it wrong. All his transactions in the room were recorded on file –everybody’s were- and Ron wanted to wipe out the early trail of big fat fails which littered his Ministry employment record with every single victorious visit he could muster.

 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he smirked and waited for the onslaught.

 

It came in a loud bang of fire which engulfed the room and Ron’s breath caught in his throat, knowing he must have really pissed off the walls to provoke the replica Fiendfyre out of them. Determinedly, though, thinking back to eight years before when he had been confronted by a much deadlier version of the fire and could easily have died, he jabbed his wand into the air, used all his might and began to draw the nearest curl of fire that he could into the wood. The effort made his arm tremble and he instantly supported it with his free hand, making sure the fire stayed on course coming towards him. Then, when the flames nearly touched the tip of his wand, he flicked it, like one would a whip, and sent an amplified wash spurting from the end, dousing the flames in a special kind of ice –the kind which would freeze him over instantly if he laid a speck of skin on it.

 

With wide eyes and a grin he watched the ice form all the way around the spiral of fire that he had provoked, freezing the huge burning creatures within it, and then when the last flame cracked into a solid form, he closed his eyes, slashed his wand with a heating charm, and melted the lot.

 

The water was gone before it hit the floor but Ron didn’t have time to notice as a dark figure leapt out of him, a mottled grey hand grabbing for his throat, and it nearly succeeded, but he stepped back just in time. The figure could not cross the magical line and thus stood with it’s wand rising. Ron thought on what exactly the test was. The figure had tried to strangle him and he had never had a fear of strangulation. But then it moved and he caught sight of the rotting face within the hood.

 

Ron couldn’t help it; he screamed and leapt back, flattening his back against the door, his wand shaking loosely in his fingers. He hoped the man’s hood stayed on because he would _never_ make up a good enough excuse for Harry as to quite why he would suddenly be duelling a half-rotted and very obviously dead Severus Snape.

 

He gasped and managed to gain back some of his prior gumption by hitting straight in the chest with a stunning spell which sent the figure staggering back, but not hard enough to throw him against the wall where he would have evaporated.

 

Now sweating profusely, Ron leapt forward and tried to slash across the chest with Sectumsempra, but found himself dodging his own curse as Snape deflected it and came forward again.

 

“Why are you fucking doing this to me?” Ron shouted at the room, knowing that only his actions, not his words, would be recorded for later viewing and the room was virtually soundproofed to those ogling him in the corridor. “What the fuck do you want?”

 

Of course there was no answer, but Dead Snape flew forward and tried for his throat again, restricted by the line but somehow his hand was able to grasp at the air.

 

Ron growled his frustration that the room had to complicate his escape from the real world with an intrusion from it. He stabbed his wand out, sent a nasty blistering hex in the way of the figure and then launched into a completely ruthless onslaught of slashing –his arm moved so fast it might have been a blur. The figure stumbled and fell to his knees on the floor, and then Ron groaned at what he saw. Hands raised and the figure was clearly begging for mercy and he had no idea what the room wanted from him.

 

_Do I spare him and fail? Kill him and fail? Fuck._

And then it struck him that the room was testing him on his perception in the matter, so he decided to trick it. Keeping his posture tight and silent, he turned on the spot to face the wall, not looking at the increased crowd through the glass but at the opaque door. There was a prickle on his neck, his spine crept and Ron dove sideways and missed the replica killing curse by a sliver of a margin, then whirled round and sent his own back, knowing the room would permit it as the assailant had attempted murder first with the Unforgivable.

 

The jet of green light hit dead centre of Snape’s chest and he crumbled before exploding into glitter. Then the room washed with green with the little dinging alarm that indicated a win and Ron slumped to the floor, landing on his back, panting up at the ceiling.

 

He could hear faint cheering through the glass and knew the crowd had seen the whole thing. He wasn’t particularly surprised at their voyeurism, the room throwing up Fiendfyre rarely happened.

 

Feeling his anger suitably abated, Ron rolled onto his front and pushed up into a crouch then stood. He finally forced himself to look at into the corridor, where his admirers, Harry in the middle, burst into impressed claps again. They were cut short by the loud tannoy speaker which erupted a voice into the hallway and room.

 

“Weasley, my office, now!” Kingsley’s voice sliced through the air and Ron groaned, bringing a hand up to rake through sweaty hair.

 

The door popped open for him.

“Christ alive, Weasley, what did you _say_ to the room to get that?” An excited trainee asked him and Ron shrugged.

“Nothing much.”

“That was fucking amazing!” Someone gushed.

“But for some reason it’s got him called to see Kings,” Harry reminded them and then looked at Ron. “Come and get me, yeah?”

 

Ron nodded breathlessly and turned away from them all, walking back towards his office to go and see his boss. His mind reeled with the tiredness of his fight and mindless thoughts drifted in and out of his consciousness.

 

_Fucking bastard room… Fiendfyre… I’m just a man, for Godric’s sake…_

_Why Severus? He was all…_ Ron shuddered recalling the rotting skin and took a deep gulp of air.

 

_I wonder if Mum’s made me a birthday cake?_

 

The fact that he could think about the word ‘birthday’ without snarling told him the room had soothed away his anger like he had hoped it would, but then the worry kicked in as to why he was being hauled into the boss’ office.

 

He rapped on the door with a clammy hand and waited for the call, pushing in after only a moment.

“You called?” Ron stuck his head around the door.  
“Sit,” Kingsley pointed to a chair in front of his desk and didn’t raise his eyes from the parchment he was reading.

 

Ron dropped down, grateful for the rest, and dragged his hand across his brow. Kingsley turned the parchment over and finished reading before he even breathed again.

 

“Right,” he finally looked up and cast the paper aside onto a teetering pile. “What the hell was that all about?” He jerked his head at the monitoring station which showed him the training room.

 

“Uh… pent up rage caused by one too many people asking me if I was having a nice birthday.”

“And I take it you are _not_ having a nice birthday?”

“How’d you guess?” Ron deadpanned and rolled his eyes.

“Ron, look… as impressive as that stunt in the room was-”

“I was goading it,” Ron closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into his shielded eyeballs. “I wanted a fight and it gave me it.”

“Why did you want a fight, Ron?”

 

Ron looked up at him with an open mouth. “Because… well. I just wanted to practice and it seemed like a good way of getting my anger out.”

“Ah, see, the honest answer but the wrong one… the right one would have been stopping at ‘I just wanted to practice’. If you need to get your anger out by hurling hexes at fake enemies, Ron, something isn’t right.”  
“Everybody does it!” Ron burst out. “Hell, even you that day after they cut our budget.”

 

“I’ve been watching you,” Kingsley told him with assessing eyes. “You’re wound tighter than a spring on the days that you’re here. I dread to think what you’re doing out on watch or patrolling…”  
“What?” Ron gasped. “Kingsley, I’m fine.”

“Are you _really_?” the voice was low and sympathetic. “There are no prizes handed out for shouldering heartache and soldiering on, Ron.”

“This is about…” he blinked in confusion. “Oh, gods, Kings, please tell me you…”

 

“Relax,” Kingsley held his palms up. “Your job is safe. But as of today, after that little show of desperation, I’m putting you on two weeks paid leave.”  
“I don’t want leave,” Ron growled desperately.

 

Really, he didn’t. His job was the only thing other than Severus that kept him grounded, from falling headfirst into the misery which lingered just out of sight, threatening to grab him round the throat just like the decaying effigy of Severus had tried in the training room.

 

“I don’t care what you want, Weasley,” the use of his surname made Ron want to groan and sink into his chair. “I am your boss and if I say you need to be taken out of the running for two weeks then that is what I say. You’re dismissed.”  
“Please,” Ron sprang forward. “One week?”

“Oh, look at that,” Kingsley narrowed his eyes. “You just notched yourself up to three weeks. Fancy making it a month, Weasley?”

 

Ron’s mouth fell open in silent protest and he nearly choked that he wanted burst into tears. His boss’ face turned soft with a sad smile. “Go away and help yourself get over this, Ron. I’m not sacking you. Just think yourself lucky –this is about the only job in the world where I can give you three weeks of leave surplus to your yearly holiday entitlements _for your health_. We need you on top form, Ron, and you’re not there, are you?”

 

Ron thought about arguing, about saying that his excursion with the Fiendfyre proved how hard he was working his game, but knew what the answer would be.

 

_That the normal me would never have provoked the fucking room into producing it in the first place. Fucking bastarding hell. Fuck. Fuck._

“Go on,” Kingsley motioned to the door. “Get out of here, Ron, go and spend your birthday doing something nice.”  
“Yeah, right,” Ron choked and got up and walked to the door.

“I’m sorry for what she did to you, if that’s worth anything… we’ve all been through so much, I suppose it makes us think we are infallible, even in affairs of the heart…” Kingsley mused, looking at him intently. “Look after yourself, please. I can’t imagine my squad without you.”

 

It should have meant a lot, such high praise from a man who had once been Minister and was now the heralded as the best Head of the Auror Squad ever known, but Ron couldn’t see it that way. He simply saw it as something said to try and cheer him up about the fact he’d been laid off for three weeks. He mustered a half-grimace for Kingsley and left the office, closing the door stupidly quietly behind him.

 

If he tried to speak his voice would have been a croak, so he simply leaned against the Ministry corridor and buried his face in shaking hands for a moment, wondering quite where he had gone wrong in the time between getting out of bed and entering the training room to land himself where he had.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered to his fingers, as though it would help.

 

“Ron?” Harry’s voice popped out of one of the offices down the way. “Is everything…?”

“No,” Ron shook his head, and pushed off the wall, ambling down to Harry’s office and slouching through the door, looking morosely around at everything he could lay his eyes on just to avoid looking at his best friend.

 

“Tell me what’s happened,” Harry said quietly, resting a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“He just… three weeks forced leave,” Ron looked at the carpet.

“Fuck, why?” Harry gasped.

“Apparently he didn’t find the Fiendfyre as impressive as you lot,” the mutter was low but Harry heard it all the same. “He says he’s been watching me, I’m wound too tight and he doesn’t think I’ll do my job correctly. It was only two weeks but I argued and he pushed me to three.”

 

Harry audibly swallowed and Ron groaned.

 

“Well, mate… hate to say this…”  
“Then don’t say it,” Ron’s head snapped up and he glared at Harry. “Don’t tell me you agree with him as that would just be a bit _too_ much.”

“I’m worried about you,” Harry sighed. “You’ve been… so withdrawn into yourself, and you keep on disappearing. You think we don’t notice but we do, Ron.”

 

Ron shrugged. “Nothing new, I’ve always enjoyed sodding off on my own.”  
“I know that, that doesn’t mean we’ve ever felt comfortable with it… especially now when you’re hurt.”

“Everyone keeps telling me I’m hurt,” Ron choked. “Everyone from you, to mum, to _bloody_ George who has absolutely no right to comment on anybody else’s mental state…” _And Severus,_ Ron tagged on mentally.

 

 _Severus._ The word seemed to light a spark in his brain and he took in a sharp gust of air.

 

_Three weeks. I’m free for three weeks._

 

“Fuck it,” he breathed, clenching his wand hand into a fist.

“What?” Harry frowned worriedly.

“I’m going on holiday,” Ron blinked and looked up at him.

“What, Ron, no! The point is you’re meant to relax and heal.”  
“I can do that on holiday,” Ron stepped towards the door but Harry cut him off.

“Where are you going?”

“I dunno,” Ron lied. “Somewhere warm, maybe. Anywhere. Anywhere that isn’t fucking England, Harry.”

 

_Ha ha, Scotland doesn’t count. Good old geography._

 

“I don’t like this,” Harry shot him a look from beneath his unruly fringe.

“Well, Harry, sorry, but I don’t really care,” Ron shook his head exasperatedly. “I have to start acting independently… when was the last time I went on holiday?”

“Er,,, Australia with us, three years ago.”

“Exactly!” Ron burst out. “I’ve never been away alone, I’ve never been able to do exactly what I wanted when I wanted…”

 

“Nothing I say is going to change your mind, is it?” Harry sighed.

“No,” Ron shrugged. “Fuck, I might as well use what I’ve been given.”

“Stay safe?” Harry beseeched him.

“Always,” Ron gave him a small smile, then sprung forward and dragged his best friend into a hug, squashing their uniforms between them.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Harry hissed harshly into his ear. “Life without you? Not worth it.”

“I’m not _that_ desperate,” Ron whispered assuringly.

“You better fucking not be.”

 

Harry stepped back and turned away to his desk, face bowed and Ron didn’t shame him by looking closely at the tears he knew would be littering the emerald eyes, the product of a man stretched too far in his youth to hold in emotions successfully in adulthood. He stepped out of the office and left the door ajar, and headed down the hallway to go and collect his things.

 

_Would he mind me crashing on him for three whole weeks, though?_

 

He pushed open the door to his own office and reached for his bag and the half-drunk bottle of lemonade he’d neglected. He searched with his eyes for anything he might need for the three weeks and found nothing, so turned off the lights and bid goodbye to his office for the time being. He locked the door and headed for the Floos.

 

 _He told me he was there for me when I needed him at any time. What’s this if not ‘any time’?_ Ron picked up a handful of Floo powder and sighed. If he was disappearing for three weeks, there was someone else he had to tell and he was not looking forward to it.

 

He chucked it in, stepped onto the grate and said ‘The Burrow’ dejectedly. His stomach jerked and he flew with his eyes closed, willing the sensation to stop every second it continued.

 

“Ron?”

 

He stumbled into the kitchen of his childhood home and looked around. And then something he had not counted on happened. As soon as he laid eyes on his mother, who was standing making a cup of tea, the tears which had threatened in Kingsley’s office reared again and that time they spilled down his cheeks.

 

“Ron, what’s happened?” he was grateful as he saw her rush over, eyes full of concern, and he sank into one of the chairs at the table and buried his face in his hands.

 

 _What is it about bloody mothers that brings this stuff out? Fuck._ He gave a hefty sniff and swiped at his eyes, but it was no good. “Kingsley just canned me for three weeks,” he choked, feeling totally pathetic as he sat there, tears dripping onto the worn wood of the table.

“Oh Ron,” Molly threw herself down next to him and enveloped him in her arms.

“I know you’re not surprised,” Ron muttered as he felt a soft hand gliding over his hair.

“I’ve been worried sick about you,” Molly whispered. “We all are, Ron… this is…and you’ve been so determined to carry on…”

“So why couldn’t he just let me?” Ron burst out tearfully. “Why does everyone have to think they know what’s best for me, mum? Why can’t _I_ just know that?”

 

She said nothing and continued stroking his hear soothingly, like he could remember being soothed when he was a little boy.

 

That thought broke something further and in seconds he was positively howling which of course set his mother off into her own tears.

“I’m s-sorry,” he gasped, sitting up straight and breaking out of her embrace. “Mum, this isn’t y-your problem.”

“Your problems are my problems, sweetheart,” she assured him, and replaced her arm around his shoulders.

 

Ron sat and swallowed hard through his tears for a while, fixing his eyes on the cooker. The momentary relief he had felt being engulfed in his mother’s arms faded and he began to realise that there was only one person who was going to heal the pain inside of him. Somebody a very long way away.

  
“Do you have a suitcase I could borrow?” Ron asked tremulously. “Hermione has ours and I… I’m going away for a bit.”

“No you’re not,” Molly said sternly. “No, Ron.”  
“Mum, don’t argue,” he said, more firmly than he had intended, but he was grateful because she sighed and he saw the battle won in the sad lines of her face.

“I do, of course I do, anything you want… but Ron I…”

“Look, mum,” he turned to her and grabbed her hand in his. “I need to do this. If I’ve been given three weeks off I’m going to use it the best I can to help me get over this and move on with my life. It’s been four months now, give or take, I should be over it.”  
“No,” she shook her head and Ron felt like a prize bastard for making his own mother cry. “You… there is no right or wrong here, Ron.”

“I need to get away,” he closed his eyes.

 

He was surprised at the absence of guilt. He had first lied to Harry, and was now withholding the truth from his mother, but he felt absolutely no semblance of remorse from keeping back his true destination.

 

_If I get there and he doesn’t want me, I’ll just move on._

 

“What will you do with the girls?” Molly asked suddenly. “Do you want to bring them here?”

“No,” Ron swallowed. “They’re coming with me. I’ll go by muggle transport.”  
“Remember they don’t like it when you transport pets between foreign countries,” Molly said softly, but then got to her feet. “I’ll get you the case. Big, small?”

 

Ron shrugged and gave her a tiny, tearful smile.

 

***

Scenery flashed past the window of the train and Ron stared at it all unblinkingly. After leaving his mother he had returned home, packed up the girls and shrunk their cage to fit in his suitcase, packed it full of clothes and some books he probably wouldn’t read. He was sat on a train speeding north, cramped into the tiny space with his long legs aching as the rats sat on his lap in their carry house, safely hidden in a smaller bag to prevent anyone from getting the screaming abdabs because he was carrying two rats around.

 

 _I haven’t even told him I’m coming… it’s really rude…_ Ron had begun to doubt himself and his plan the second he’d plonked his arse on the train seat, and it had moved off from the platform with him wondering if he should jump off at the first stop. He had chosen to take the train so that he didn’t have to risk apparition over long distances with the rats, though he assumed he’d have to get to the village in that way as by the time he made it north, nothing would really be running.

 

 _He might even be asleep, then what am I going to fucking do?_ He swept his eyes up and down the carriage, but there was no way he would manage to get a Patronus off to Severus without somebody noticing his actions, and he wasn’t leaving his belongings and the rats to nip to the toilet and do it.

 

Sighing he repositioned his head on his hand and thought back over the day as it had gone.

 _Knew I shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning._ It was the overwhelming conclusion that Ron couldn’t help but arrive at. His first day of being twenty-seven had been god awful, and if the rest of the year was going to continue in that fashion he wanted to speed on to twenty-eight, despite the fact that took him closer to thirty.

 

_Why does twenty-seven seem so much older than twenty-six? I don’t get it. It’s not like anything changed physically… fuck…_

He closed his eyes and revelled in the darkness it brought him, even though his mind was still completely awash with thoughts. And out of all of them, he couldn’t quite kick the one which screamed ‘ _three weeks with him, fuck yes…’_

***

If Ron had been blue leaving London he was downright depressed by the time he popped into the tiny Scottish village. The wind instantly buffeted him and he protectively moved his arms around the bag around his torso which held his rats.

 

_Should have left them with mum, this is stupid._

 

He made his way along the quiet road and hoped he would be able to find Severus easily, and was relieved when he saw the lights from the pub shining out onto the pavement.

 

With every step he took his shoulders became heavier and the bags weighed him down –he felt as though he were coming to the end of a marathon, where someone was seemingly moving the finishing line further and further away with every step that he took towards it. He was shivering by the time he made it to the pub door and he looked at it, but then something to his right made him jump. Tied loosely to the side of the building was a whopping great horse, which seemed to be content making dinner out of some early flowers in one of the hanging baskets. Ron looked at the massive beast and backed away, having never felt comfortable around them. But he looked in fascinated awe at the huge flanks and gleaming coat. The horse gave a snort and looked at him.

 

“Hey.” _Fucking goon, talking to a horse!_

 

Ron gave it a nervous smile and then to get away, he pushed open the door to the pub and manoeuvred everything he carried through the doorway. There was the usual amount of chattering and he looked at the bar, not surprised to find that once more, Severus had his back to him. He walked up to the bar and dropped the case on the floor and cleared his throat.

 

“You know, it’s rude to ignore people?” He said pointedly, and enjoyed the way Severus jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled round, nearly slipping his grip on the pint glass in his hands.

“Ron?” Severus’ eyes grew wide as he took in the pale form, slumped shoulders and luggage.

“Can we, uh… Can I talk to you?” Ron made eyes at the back and begged silently. The aching of his shoulders reached a new premium and he almost sobbed.

 

“Just give me a moment, go upstairs,” Severus said softly.

 

Ron grabbed his case and did as he was asked, carefully walking up the steps but forgot to duck –he clipped his head on the low wooden beam marking the doorway and groaned at his own stupidity. The fire was unlit and the room every bit as cold as the wind outside. He shrugged the flight bag from round his middle and set it gently on the coffee table, before turning and stabbing his wand to shoot flames in the grate. He raised his hands and rubbed them together hoping to gain some feeling back within them.

 

_Feet are a lost cause, I think; amputation is the only way to go._

He waited ten minutes and Severus did not arrive in the room so he sat down, wrapping his arms tightly around him to try and withhold the torrent of emotion whirling around his chest. His jaw began to judder and he fought hard to control it to no avail. Full body shivers wracked him and he rocked back and forth, knowing how pathetic he would look if Severus were to walk in at that precise moment. His breath was short and began to hurt his lungs.

 

_Please, Severus, please… Oh sweet Godric please come upstairs soon._

But fifteen minutes later he was still waiting and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Still wrapped in his coat he kicked off his boots and curled up into the lumpy sofa, tugging a scatter cushion into his arms and clinging to it desperately.

 

_Shouldn’t have come… should have stayed at home and collapsed in my own flat… fuck.., what was I thinking? Fuck. Fuck._

Ron had always been prone to panicking and it was very obvious that his anxiety was bubbling up into a full blown attack as he sat there in the quiet little room with no company. He wanted to get the rats out, they had, after all, been trapped in the tiny box for a long time and it wasn’t fair on them. But he wasn’t going to let them out if Severus didn’t want him there. If he had to move on he needed to do it before the cold really set in.

 

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he did not notice the gentle footsteps in the stairway, or that a figure stood in the doorframe, stooped whilst he watched Ron combust upon himself on the sofa.

 

The first Ron knew of Severus’ presence was when he kneeled down on the floor next to the sofa and spoke. “Ron, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“I…” Ron looked up at him in desperation.

“Tell me,” Severus demanded, reaching out concerned hands to grip Ron’s upper arms.

 

Ron swallowed on a dry throat. “This morning I… well. I got angry this morning and…”  
“What?”

 

Ron could hear Severus’ patience beginning to wane as he stuttered, trying to control the shaking in his lips.

“It’s my birthday today,” he said randomly. “And everyone was… wishing me happy birthday… I got mad, let myself loose on the training room and provoked the simulator into throwing Fiendfyre at me… Kingsley saw it and h-he… f-fucking bastard canned me for three weeks on paid leave.”

“So you’ve been…”  
“Signed off,” Ron swallowed hard, feeling how the warmth from Severus’ hands seeped into his body.

 

“And so you’re here?” Severus looked at him uncertainly, flicking his eyes to the set down luggage.  
“Only if you want me,” Ron mumbled. “I’ll go somewhere else if you don’t.”

 

Ron nearly cried as the man got up and walked away from him, over to the fire where he studied the carpet intensely. It was not the reaction Ron had dreamed of stuck on the poky train all the way from London. Severus didn’t even look particularly happy to see him and it was like a massive knife in his chest.

 

“I’ll g-go,” he choked, and got to his feet, surprised to find his legs weakened by the brief time he had sat down, instead of being strengthened. “It’s fine; if you don’t want me I’ll go.”

“Where have you got that ridiculous notion from?” Severus spun round and looked at him in alarm, eyeing the way Ron had bent for his shoes.

 

“You didn’t…” Ron tried to think of the correct way to say what he wanted, but knew it was going to come out sounding impetuous no matter what he did. “You didn’t look happy to see me, Severus.”

  
“I was shocked, I didn’t expect to see you until next weekend,” Severus shook his head with a furrowed brow. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t up here sooner, I had to wait for my cover to arrive.”

“You don’t have to go back down?” Ron asked weakly.

“No,” Severus shook his head.

 

Ron gave up the pretence then and jumped across the room, chucking his arms around Severus’ waist and pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

“God, you’re shaking,” Severus muttered and tightened his grip around Ron’s back. “How did you get here… have you got the girls in that?” he eyed the flight bag on the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” Ron wailed. “I didn’t know what to do… he gave me three weeks and all I wanted was to run to you and I couldn’t leave them Severus, I’m so sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Severus sank a hand into the back of Ron’s hair and held him close.

“I won’t stay for the whole three weeks if you don’t want me to,” Ron moaned.

“Why on earth would I not want you here?”

“Because you… you don’t like people encroaching on your personal space and it’s not very big… I promise I’ll just stay the night and go, Severus.”

 

“Ron, if you imply that you are not wanted here one more time I will hex you so you are incapable of walking for three weeks, let alone leaving,” Severus hissed. “Now. Just talk slowly. Your family know you are safe?”  
“I told them I was going to take a holiday,” Ron said quietly. “Mum and Harry. They’ll let everybody else know.”

“And you are sure that you want to be here, you would not rather be in a warm foreign country?”

“I packed loads of really thick jumpers,” Ron answered him bluntly.  
“Okay, good,” Severus cracked a small smile that Ron could not see. “Because you are freezing and shivering like you’re possessed.”

“So cold,” Ron shuddered more on thinking about how wretched he felt.

“Have you eaten?” Severus whispered.

“On the train a few hours ago, not much,” Ron admitted.

“Right. I’m going to go downstairs and get you something hot. Set up the girls where you want, probably best away from the fire.”

 

Ron wanted to break down again that Severus was letting him stay but he made the resolve to at least wait until the man had left the room, he was scared of doing anything to jeopardise his safe haven that had been offered. Severus pulled back and looked at him, taking in his red rimmed eyes.

 

“You’ve been crying?” Pain marred the dark eyes and Ron wondered how on earth he had managed to hurt the man.

“Not since I saw mum…”

 

A surprisingly gentle yet roughly skinned thumb brushed over his cheekbone and Ron closed his eyes at the touch, thinking of how many more he would be able to collect in three weeks, and how that one alone seemed to repair something in his fractured soul.

 

“I will be back in a moment,” Severus said, and turned away.  
“Um, there’s a horse outside,” Ron said nervously. “Eating your hanging basket.”  
“I know, his name is Dave.”  
“Who the hell names a horse Dave?” Ron’s face relaxed as his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“That is my cousin, none of her horses have names which are fitting. However, you can hardly talk,” Severus cast an eye to the bag on the coffee table.  
“He’s hers?”

 

Severus nodded. “I’ll be back soon, unpack and get warmed up. You feel like ice.”

 

He was gone then and Ron heaved a massive sigh of relief feeling as though he had finally landed safely, feeling as though he belonged.

 

***

Several brandy-laced cups of tea, a plate of lasagne and an argument over who should have what side of the sofa later, Ron sat wrapped up in the blanket he had bought for Severus’ bed in January, comfortably full and sleepy. Severus was next to him.

 

Ron couldn’t believe how informally they sat. He had put his feet on the floor but then in a show of affection which shocked him from a man he had perceived to be cynical and toughened for so many years, Severus had reached down, pulled his feet into his lap and kept them warm with his hands.

 

“So, why don’t you tell me everything?” Severus said finally, raising his eyebrow just a little. “It’s been a week since we saw each other last, what’s happened to bring this on?”

 

“I have no idea,” Ron shrugged helplessly, lowering his mug from his lips. “I just… I thought I was doing really well, you know? I was getting on fine, I hadn’t moped at all… and then this morning I just sat down at my desk and found the basket of muffins that everyone clubs together for when it’s somebody’s birthday… and I just looked at them and thought ‘fuck’.”

“That little piece of information seemed to slip your mind,” Severus looked at him. “I had no idea it was your birthday today.”

 

Ron blushed. “I… well…”

“Don’t worry,” Severus gave him a small smile. “I’m quite sure I’ll be able to think up a suitable apology gift.”

 

Liking the sound of that, Ron sent him a smirk and stretched out his legs on the sofa. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“Not surprised, you must have had to work hard to control the Fiendfyre,” Severus said with a somewhat awed tone.

“It didn’t end there,” the tone was dark when Ron spoke and Severus looked at him questioningly. “If you’ve ever wondered what you might look like dead,” Ron’s voice cracked, “Just Legilimens me. You came out of the fire, hidden in a cloak, but you were so…” he visibly shuddered again.

“Dead?” Severus frowned in horror.

“Yeah…” Ron whispered. “Horrible. I had to kill you. Sorry, and all that.”

 

“Why would the room present you with a dead me? Trying to murder you, I presume?”

“No idea,” Ron shrugged. “It really ripped me up. I can’t get it out of my head… I…”

 

Tears welled up before he could stop them and he looked down at his chest to hide them from Severus. He managed to control them quickly and when he looked up he saw the raven-haired man staring uncomfortably at the fire.

 

“Sorry,” Ron sniffed. “Ignore me. Fucking useless bastard I am.”

 

Severus said nothing and stroked absentmindedly at the bare leg exposed as Ron’s jeans had ridden up during his stretch.

 

“Enough about me,” Ron coughed gruffly. “How are you? I missed you…”

“Things here are fine, especially as it’s getting warmer and the light is changing… I have always hated winter, so dark and depressing…”

“You do realise you’re in Scotland, right? If you wanted good weather you should have gone to the south coast…”

“Well If I could pick this place and its loyal clientele up and move them, I would.”

 

Ron detected the edgy tone and fell silent, swallowing a little nervously.

 

_He’s being weird… fuck it… I shouldn’t have come…_

 

“So,” Severus turned to him. “Why did you come here, Ron?”

“Because you were the first person I thought of that I wanted to spend three weeks with,” Ron said in one breath. “I just knew. I didn’t think to Patronus until I got on the train and I didn’t get the chance for privacy… sorry. Is that why you’re…”

“Why I’m what?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Why you’re being a bit off?”  
“I was not aware I was being so,” Severus looked away.

 

Silence fell again and Ron rapidly tried to think of something to say to salvage the situation before a wedge drove in between them.

 

“I am surprised you came,” Severus muttered.  
“Why?” Ron frowned. “You know I… you know I want to spend more time with you?”  
“I am surprised you did not stay in your flat and seek out comfort from a stranger or something hideous like that.”

 

“One time and you’re going to throw that back in my face forever, eh?” Ron breathed. “You know I… I just wanted to know what it was like…”

 

He thought back to the night in January where he admitted his New Year’s Eve one night stand to Severus, and then the visit after that where Severus had grilled him on the man and what had happened with him, speaking with a possessive urgency which both annoyed and impassioned Ron.

 

_Does he think I’m some kind of whore, just because I did something once in desperation?_

“I haven’t had sex with anybody but you since January 1st,” Ron informed him in a choked tone. “If you’re determined to make me into a whore, at least know the facts before you ram your prejudice down my throat.”

“Don’t be so absurd,” Severus snapped and removed his hand from where it had been brushing against the fine hairs at Ron’s ankle.

“It’s not absurd!” Ron protested, hating how the conversation had steered into angry seas. “You basically said you’re surprised I didn’t go out and find some random person to fuck… is that really what you think of me?”

 

Severus looked into the fire again and breathed purposefully in and out. “I was out of line, I apologise. That is not what I meant to say at all.”  
“So why did you?” Ron looked down at his chest and waited for the answer.

“I suppose I find it hard to believe that anybody would sit on a train for seven hours because they believed that I would provide them with comfort at the end of it.”

 

“I didn’t come here for comfort,” Ron burst out. “I came here for you. Whether they’re one and the same is my problem, not yours.”

“Ah, but it _is_ my problem. You will be here for three weeks, we will be living within each other’s pockets and you are… well. We are very different, Ron.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Ron muttered bitterly and couldn’t help the tears swelling in his eyes.

 

_For fuck’s sake did someone slip me something? I haven’t cried this much in one day since the night she left me. Fuck it._

 

Ron watched with deepening horror as Severus set his jaw in distaste and pushed Ron’s legs off him onto the floor. Then he swiftly got to his feet, crossed the living room and entered the bathroom with a sharp bang of the door.

 

Looking at the closed wood, Ron hated to acknowledge that he was about to lose it again, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it.

“For fuck’s sake…” the words came out choked and mumbled and he threw his hands up to shield his face even though nobody remained in the room to see his tears other than the rats, who were curled up asleep recovering from the long journey. “No. Nononononono.”

He groaned at himself and a sob broke out of his lips as he shoved his fingers into his hair and tugged hard, causing stabbing pains to break out over his scalp as he refused to let go in his upset.

 

_I fucked it up. I fucking fucked it all up. Fuck._

 

His bad mental language only served to upset him more and Ron cried harder, drawing his knees up to his chest and feeling a tight corkscrew form in his stomach which wound tighter and tighter with every sob.

 

So absorbed in his tantrum he did not notice that the bathroom door had reopened, or that Severus was flying to him, looking at him at first slightly horrified, and then increasingly so.

“Ron, let go of your hair, _now_!” The command was sharp and it jerked him out of the pattern he’d fallen into.

“Go away,” he begged. “I’m sorry, I’ll go…”

“I don’t want you to go, I want you to stop making yourself prematurely bald,” Severus said pointedly, and reached up to grab Ron’s wrists. “Stop.”

 

With a few great heaved breaths Ron loosened his grip and let Severus hold his wrists tightly. He kept his eyes on his knees and concentrated on evening out his breathing.

 

“This has really hurt today, hasn’t it?” Severus asked him. “Being removed from your job?”

 

Ron gave a miserable nod and closed his eyes. “I feel like a failure.”

“You are far from that, Ron. I… apologise for my actions just now. Your tears affect me more deeply than I admit.”

“W-why?” the word was tremulous but Ron didn’t understand him, he could remember Severus offering his shoulder countless times, but it sounded as though they had merely been empty words.

“I… I do not think it is wise for me to tell you now, you are already upset, Ron.”

“Tell me,” he demanded, thinking of the way Severus had commanded him and refused to be pushed around or babied by the man.

 

“Simply think of my past, think of the people I have seen begging in tears for their lives, for their families, for their… virtue.”

 

Ron looked at him then, and swallowed. “You mean you… it… your past?”

“I have always hated the sight of another being crying,” Severus looked awkwardly at the worn upholstery of the sofa. “I suppose that stems from my childhood, as many of my issues do. I don’t know why, but tears are some kind of golden ticket to a night filled with hideous reminders of the past…”

“I should go,” Ron said, his voice stronger. “I can’t make any promise that I won’t cry again, Severus.”

“If you think I am letting you out of here in this state, tonight or for the next three weeks, you have absolutely nothing in between your ears,” Severus glared at him. “You are not going anywhere, do you understand me?”

“But you-”

“I will deal with it,” Severus gripped Ron’s arms even tighter and gave him a slight shake when he spoke again. “You are… you have become far too important in my life for me to chase you away with shadows of the past.”

 

Everything within Ron’s body seemed to soften then and he let out a tiny breath of air and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Severus asked him firmly.

 

Ron nodded a little more confidently. “I’m sorry you… I’m sorry you saw that. Today I think I’ve cried more than I have since the first night she left me.”

“Understandable,” Severus got to his feet and Ron winced when he heard the man’s knees crack and resound through the room.

“You need oiling,” he sniffed with a little grin.

“Mm,” Severus snorted a little in agreement. “Come on. You look like you need a good long sleep.”

 

Ron rolled sideways and got to his feet; as the blood rush hit his head he began to feel boneless. Severus caught him when he staggered.

“Anyone would have thought you’d had three measures of brandy,” he gave him a shifty smile.

“Thought it tasted rather potent,” Ron gave a breathless giggle. “Trying to get me pissed?”

“Trying to get you warm and relaxed,” Severus sighed. “Did it work?”

“After that little episode I guess we have to say not,” Ron bit his lip.

 

“Don’t do that,” Severus warned him, gazing at the nipped skin and the way it blossomed red when Ron released it.

“What, this?” Ron dragged his teeth over it again and looked up at Severus from beneath his fringe in _that_ way, which had become code between them for ‘fuck me’.

“I doubt you’re in any state for that,” Severus turned and steered him towards the bedroom.

 

Ron managed to walk on his own and reached up to strip his clothes, but Severus’ hands beat him to it. He stood lazily whilst he lost the blanket and his jumper and t-shirt were lifted from his torso. Severus unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall whilst Ron moved to step out of them.

“You’ll do,” Severus gave him a once over with his eyes. “Bed, now.”

 

Obeying because he didn’t have the energy to fight, Ron clambered under the duvet as Severus chucked the blanket back over the top to keep their body heat in, and then methodically began to undress himself. Ron wasn’t too far gone that he couldn’t enjoy the spectacle of the pale body being bared to the room. Black clinging underwear on show once more, Ron shifted his arse into the mattress and reached for his cock, which had begun to swell in an awkward position.

 

His eyes caught the clock and saw that it was nearly eleven, relatively early for Severus to go to bed, from what he had learned of the man’s living habits. He smiled as the bed dipped down beside him and then that beautiful warmth washed over him as Severus pulled him into his arms.

 

They met in a deep kiss and Ron loosened his jaw to give Severus all the room he wanted to tongue fuck his mouth, feeling as though it was the action his day had been missing. Smoothing his hands over Severus’ slim back, Ron melted into everything he was offered. A lazy groan filtered up out of his throat which Severus swallowed, and then pulled back.

 

“You are apparently insatiable, even when distraught,” one dark eyebrow hooked up.  
“Come on, Severus,” Ron laughed. “You should have realised that by now… I don’t think my cock ever grew out of that whole rabid teenager thing, to be honest. Or maybe it just really likes the company of the last few months…”

 

Severus smirked at him and then Ron hissed as a hand palmed him through his underwear.

“No sex, not tonight,” Severus kissed him. “But I am willing to…” he trailed off, but made his point by sucking lightly on Ron’s lower lip at the end of his next kiss.

“Do that again,” Ron whispered, loving the way the wet tongue had caressed the soft skin inside his lip. “Ohhhh god…”

“You are so responsive,” Severus cocked his head to the side and watched Ron’s face as he gently began to work the erection he held on to, noting the way the redhead’s eyes winced when he was stroked and the way his lips quirked into a pout when touch was applied to the base of his shaft.

 

“I was never this responsive before you,” Ron whispered nervously.

“Before someone knew how to touch you,” Severus corrected.

“I’m pretty sure it has something to do with it being you.”

“Hmm, well. Let’s _not_ test the theory by involving a third party…”

“Damn, Severus, you’re putting an end to my wild nights of orgies,” Ron rolled his eyes and grinned when the hand tightened blissfully.

“Remember, don’t joke,” Severus warned him.

“Really, though… you’re serious… exclusive?” Ron raised his eyebrows.

“I would have thought that much was obvious?”

“Sometimes you have to actually tell me these things…” Ron’s eyes fell to his chest. “She always called me thick.”

“You are _not_ thick,” Severus growled. “Well,” he squeezed with his hand. “Except where it counts.”

 

Ron snorted with laughter and looked back up with renewed confidence. “You’re so good to me.”

“Not many people have ever said those words to me,” Severus smirked in disbelief.

“Well, get used to it,” Ron raised his chin.

 

Severus heaved a resigned sigh and gave a curt nod. “I will try my hardest.”

“So then…” Ron whispered up. “What are you going to do about…?” He thrust up with his hips.

 

He nearly squealed with anticipation when Severus instantly disappeared down beneath the duvet and then Ron felt his underwear slide down over his hips. “Wait, I haven’t done the spe-OHHHHH.”

 

Severus didn’t wait for him to perform the hygiene spell and that alone made Ron harder than necessary.

 

_Fuck it’s like molten chocolate running everywhere, all over my cock… hmm… that could be interesting…wonder if he’s into food play?_

“Yeah, gods that’s good,” Ron arched up and grinned to the ceiling when Severus did not hold his hips down but let him gently start to fuck his mouth. It was then that Ron realised he wanted to see such a spectacle, and he shifted back to sit up against the headboard, gasping as Severus moved with him, keeping his cock firmly ensconced between taut lips. Ron reached out and shifted the duvet back so it adorned Severus’ shoulders and looked down in between his thighs.

 

His dick was jutting up red and thick and Severus was wrapped around the tip; Ron gave him a nervous smile when he realised the man was looking up at him, dark eyes glittering as he washed his tongue repeatedly in a circle over the head. The look relaxed his lips into a parted moan as a hand lifted his balls and cupped them before performing a gentle tugging motion in rhythm with the licking on his shaft.

 

“How.are.you.so.good.at.this?” Ron’s whine emitted through clenched teeth and he reached up to hold onto Severus’ hair but then something happened which knocked him for six.

 

He had not seen that Severus had his wand in his free hand, and so when his wrists were lifted back and secured to the headboard, new realms of desire peaked through his body, heading straight for his abused cock.

  
“Oh gods…you… I… did you Legilimens me?” Ron muttered, thinking back on the most explosive orgasms he’d had in the past had come from when he had dabbled in bondage with Hermione.

 

 _Urgh, don’t think of her now, fastest way to lose an erection!_ He successfully pushed her from his mind as Severus engulfed his cock in searing heat and swallowed him to the back of his throat, then pulled up again. He shot Ron a filthy smirk before returning back to the tip, washing around the head and carrying away the pearly drops which had gathered there in response to the silken ties cutting into Ron’s wrists.

 

“I love being tied up,” Ron breathed, widening his legs wantonly. “It feels so… uh, shit…”

His bollocks were tugged harder and he felt teeth nipping at the underside of his cock.

 

“Are you actually biting me?” Ron gasped, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

 

Severus repeated the action, revelling in the way Ron was opening up for him like a fascinating book once the ties were on his wrists. He obviously responded to the restraint and Severus couldn’t have been more excited by it. His own cock was batting on the mattress, aching with want as he pleasured the redhead slowly towards climax.

 

“More, oh god, _more_ ….”

 

Severus didn’t mind Ron begging like that, when the begging was so fucking sensual it made him want to drench the bedsheets with come at the very sound. “Beg a little further and maybe I will…” he returned immediately to working Ron’s slit with his tongue and was pleased that his words caused more fluid to drip out of it. He lapped it away diligently and waited for Ron to obey.

 

“Severus… nobody has ever…” he broke off gasping as his bollocks were rolled in a deft hand. “Ever sucked my cock like you… you… the best I’ve ever… fuck… please. More.”

“Just a little more,” Severus taunted him and extended his tongue so that Ron could actually see the filthy wet trail it left around his straining head.

“Ohohohohhhh pleaseSeverusjustsuckmeandmakemecome….” It came out all as one word and Ron wanted to cringe at his desperation but that tongue just felt so good all restraint had flown far away.

 

Severus took pity, largely due to his own approaching climax, and applied a sucking force to the head of the cock in his mouth whilst purposefully flicking against the slit with his tongue. Ron bucked, his knees coming up off the bed with his wrists tied level by his head and pushed up into the treacherous mouth and burst quite literally a flood of come into the man who had teased him to completion.

 

“OhmyfuckingGOD, oh, ohhhhhhhhhhh….” His voice grew to an impossibly loud growl as he bucked and mewled through the powerful expulsion. It felt as though he had not come for months.

 

Severus swallowed hard and pulled off, licking out to catch what had leaked at the corners of his mouth. He immediately rose onto his knees, shoved down his underwear and yanked Ron back down in the bed, leaving his wrists tied to the headboard and the redhead yelped in surprise at the pain in his muscles.

 

But Ron soon shut up and his eyes widened when he realised that Severus was moving to position across his shoulders, fisting his own cock and guiding it straight into Ron’s mouth.

“Suck me,” he breathed, reaching down and placing a hand into Ron’s hair, even though he needed no forcing to do as he was bade.

 

Ron accepted the erection between his lips and flicked his tongue against it, finding it dripping with saltiness and he groaned, and jumped when it took no more than that for Severus to flood his own mouth with come for the first time in four months. He almost choked at the volume but kept swallowing, growing used to the taste and feel of it in his mouth, neither of which really bothered him. He lapped against the head a few times to carry away the remaining traces and then he slid off, capturing the quivering tip in a gentle kiss whilst he looked up from beneath his fringe at Severus, who actually whimpered.

 

“Fuck. Three weeks of that and I’ll be a rendered bedridden,” Severus gasped.

 

***

Ron rolled over, feeling warm and comfortable, his eyes cracking open in half-consciousness. Severus was by his side, sleeping soundly with his head nuzzled deep into his pillow. With a burst of joy in his chest which felt remarkably mawkish for a grown man, Ron realised that their hands were entwined, just as they had been when they had settled to sleep. He peeked over at the window and recognised the grey fuzz of approaching dawn through the curtains. Looking sleepily sideways at his lover, Ron closed his eyes. It felt wonderful not to have to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t believe I’ve already been here a week,” Ron took in a deep gust of sea air, looking out over the crashing waves through the trees making up the wooded area in which they were walking.

 

Severus said nothing and kept moving, his own eyes trained down at the path beneath their feet. They were walking by the coast and the weather was absolutely freezing if surprisingly sunny.

 

Ron shot him a nervous glance and closed his mouth. He had indeed been in Scotland a week and had found that staying with Severus for longer than one night at a time was very different to leaving the next morning. Severus was not a morning person, and Ron was still cringing about how he’d learnt that the hard way.

 

_How the fuck was I supposed to know he’s not good at waking up? Do I look psychic? He was fine all the times I’ve been here before, and at mine… grrrrr…_

“We should probably head back soon,” the quiet comment made up the most amounts of words that Severus had spoken since they had left the pub.

“Oh, sure…” Ron turned to him. “You’re being really quiet this morning.”

“No more than usual,” Severus gave him a tight smile.

 

Ron just stared at him. “What?”

“I am not feeling my best.”  
“Why the fuck did you come then?” Ron frowned, mouth falling open in exasperation. “Severus, I’m _twenty_ -seven, not seven. I can look after myself for a day or five.”

 

Anger flared in the dark eyes and Ron winced that he’d provoked it. Especially seeing as without Severus he didn’t really want to be tramping the frozen countryside at all.

 

“I merely wanted to spend some time with you, however if my presence is hindering your freedom, I will leave,” there was a definite sneer in the tone and Ron surprised himself that he was actually pleased by it.

 

He looked at Severus, whose hair was loose and blowing in the wind, at his pale face and dark eyes and was glad that man could still find some contempt for him. Over the past week they had undoubtedly grown closer than either of them had expected and their words, in the bedroom at least, had become ever softer, beyond romantic and utterly unmanly. Ron knew that was largely down to the protector role Severus seemed to have taken on over his personage. Ron was all for being cared for, but he hated seeing the sarcastic side of Severus lying in wait.

 

“Do what you want,” Ron shrugged. “I’m the one imposing on your hospitality; you don’t have to follow me around like a loyal puppy.” With that he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked further down the path, listening to the way his boots crunched over the twigs.

 

There was silence behind him and he had absolutely no idea if Severus was following him or not. He kept walking, unwilling to stop.

 

Over the seven days, Ron had come to realise that his holiday was doing him every kind of good imaginable. He was resting and allowing himself to think, which was good. He was eating properly, which was also good. He had learned how to pull a pint properly, which had been disastrous, and then fun when he got his cock-ups for free. But on top of all of those things, Ron had realised that everyone who had told him he had been hurting, and he needed to just _stop_ the merry-go-round and get off for a while, had been one hundred percent right.

 

Whether they would have been right without Severus’ presence in his life, Ron wasn’t sure. Nor was he completely convinced it was healthy for him to have bounced straight up to his lover to help get over his eight year relationship. But every time that he was kissed, or embraced, all the thoughts were chased from his mind, he merely felt safe.

 

 _And he just has that way of melting me with his eyes… not sure he’d like that if I ever said it._ Ron snorted at the thought of telling Severus Snape that his eyes were scorching to his soul. It was only then that he heard the low voice which announced that Severus had followed him.

 

“You know, there are plenty of anecdotes about finding one’s own humour funny,” Severus muttered, catching up with him and falling into step.

“Well, so what, at least I know I have one fan, eh?” Ron winked.

Severus smiled and looked pointedly out at the sea. “Ah, I think there’s a beach through there now.”

 

Ron turned immediately and started through the thick brambles, searching out the best possible path.

“Don’t wait for anything as normal as a pathway, will you?” Severus muttered tetchily.

 

Turning round and staring, Ron asked, “Problem?”

“You act on things as soon as they are put into your head,” Severus frowned. “You are willing to rip your legs to shreds because you will not wait and see if there is an easier route to reach your destination.”

 

Ron swallowed then and looked at the ground. “Heh, guess that’s the story of my life really, isn’t it?”

 

He turned back to the path and started along it, thinking on Severus’ words and how they had stung for no real reason. He knew he was impulsive and he let his emotions –whether they be angry, happy or otherwise, rule his actions. The last week alone would prove that without looking to the rest of his life –storming to the training room, and then running to Severus without really thinking about the situation first, not until it was too late to halt the journey…

 

 _Guess things don’t really change much, do they?_ For some reason he found himself once more thrown headfirst into recollections of the past, to an argument in a tent, to a shield charm separating from Harry, and then running, storming out to disappear, convinced he was justified in his actions... and then the crushing regret when he could no longer find his best friends again and he was forced to return home like a dog with its tail in between his legs.

 

Severus looked at the redhead and saw the shift on his face, in his eyes, which indicated the man had slipped into thoughts which were not necessarily good for him. To that end he cast a quick look around them and on finding no human presence, slipped his arm around Ron’s waist.

 

The touch in public made Ron jump and snap his head right to look at Severus.

 

_He never touches me in public. He never touches me outside of the fucking living area of the pub._

“What are you doing?” Ron inched closer, loving the feel of the warm weight about his waist.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Severus ignored him and kept walking. “Sometimes I really fear for your mentality, you do rather like to question the obvious.”

“I rather fear for your _person_ ality when you insist on making people feel like idiots,” Ron mumbled.

“Are we going to snipe at one another all afternoon? I must confess if we are I will turn back now.”  
“Who started the sniping?” Ron groaned. “You! Don’t get pissy with me just because I don’t let you get away with it.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You hate it,” Ron told him bluntly. “You hate that I don’t back down from you. And I’m not going to, Severus.”

 

Severus said nothing and kept them walking.

 

“Oh, very mature, the silent treatment,” Ron snorted. “Sometimes you’re just as immature as I am. Considering there are twenty years between us it’s worrying.”

“You push your luck,” Severus growled.

“And you’ll do what?” Ron stopped and turned to face him with a laugh on his face. “You’ll ignore me for a while and then crack at the first instance I offer you a head massage or a kiss?”

“I am fairly confident I could ignore you during such offers should I feel the need for overt shunning.”

“You and your fancy words,” Ron rolled his eyes. “Just say ‘I want you to fuck off’ if that’s what you want me to do Severus. Godric…” he reached up and pushed his fringe out of his eyes. “I am having a _great_ time being up here, Severus. And I love this little verbal sparring thing we have going on when you’re not doing your best mothering impression. But dancing around your moods is fucking hard work.”

 

“You are an adult, you know not every relationship is full of sunshine and rainbows,” Severus glared at him.

“Yeah, I’m aware of the fact,” Ron glared right back, then turned away and stomped down the path again, wondering if sometimes Severus forgot the reason that he was there at all.

 

 _Which isn’t really… it isn’t his problem…_ Ron conceded and aimed a kick at a leafy patch in the floor. Silence had fallen behind him again but he kept walking, noticing an indent in the grass ahead, and with a tut of resignation Ron had to agree that it would have been foolish to kick through the brambles when there was a path, which he found as he walked it, led him down onto the rocky beach.

 

The wind was colder and he shivered as he picked his way over the rocks to the shoreline, where the water angrily jumped against the wet sand. A wave rolled in and the freezing spray sank into his jeans. He looked around for some flat stones, and on collecting them retreated to find a good skimming position.

 

The first he threw was moot and sank where it splashed and he groaned, thinking of how badly his brothers would have ribbed him for that. There was a little pang in his chest as he thought of them and not for the first time he wondered how George was coping without him.

 

_He’d Patronus if anything was badly wrong, I told him he could contact me any time._

The second stone made it further into the steely grey but was another flop. The third tried to bounce and didn’t quite make it. In frustration Ron properly spun the last out of his wrist and watched as the damned thing proceeded to bounce out three times before sinking.

 

“You got there in the end,” Severus’ silky voice came from nearby and Ron straightened, looking around for him.

 

Dressed all in black _–god forbid colour might kill him!-_ Severus was watching him with his hands tucked up in his armpits, hair still blowing around in the wind and his face was almost ghostly.

 

“I thought you’d gone back,” Ron said, colour flooding into his cheeks.  
“And leave you to fend for yourself?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not a child.”

“I am not saying you are, I simply think whilst you are here you would be better off with company than without.”

“And you?” Ron asked pointedly. “How about you with all this buddy buddy companionship?”

 

Severus looked at him and Ron was surprised to see a small smile curl up his lips. “I will not deny that having to make such an effort to be sociable is hard work.”

“You call this sociable?” Ron grinned.

“Out of practice,” Severus excused himself.

“Not really... you’ve been seeing me for a while now. And I’m pretty sociable.”  
“When you are not wallowing in your self-pity.”

“Cor, the punches are really rolling today, aren’t they?” Ron bent for another stone.

“If you wish to take them as such.”

 

Ron fell silent and gave up trying to decode the cryptic words –he hated it when Severus got like this, saying everything in a way which could have a million different meanings. In seven days he had already learned to just shut up and not chase the ball when Severus threw it. It only annoyed him and if anything it was _really_ fun to watch.

 

But to Ron’s disappointment Severus did not seem to be in the mood for games, and simply sighed and turned away. Ron looked out at the sea and wondered how cold it was.

 

A memory rolled into him then of being on holiday in Greece when he was twenty-one with Hermione. It served as their first holiday away together and the weather had been scorching. He remembered gaining the tan of his life which obliterated all his freckles and made him look slightly dirty in a sun-kissed way. The feeling of warm sand and warmer sea came back to him and he smiled. An argument was playing out in his head about, of all things, skinny dipping. Hermione had told him he was stupid and Ron had retorted ‘I didn’t live through a war to not do anything because someone might think it was stupid’. Against his better judgement, though, he’d been swayed by the sulky upset on her face and neglected his plan, retreating instead to the shade of a tree whilst she read.

 

“Are you listening to me?” Severus’ voice cut through the mental flashback and Ron jumped.

“Er, no.”

 

Severus blinked at him a few times. “Where on earth were you? You were grinning like a lunatic.”

“Remembering a holiday to Greece, actually,” Ron scuffed his boot against the sand.

“With Hermione?” Severus’ tone was laced with bitterness.

“Yeah… but it wasn’t… well. The sun and sea were a happy memory, but what I was actually thinking about wasn’t.”

“What was that?”  
“Ah, c’mon, don’t pretend you want to know,” Ron shot him a knowing look.

“If you wish to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“It’s nothing… I just… we were on a beach, secluded like this… heck of a lot warmer though. And I suggested that we could, as we were alone, sort of have a swim with nothing on…”

“I bet the locals just loved that…”

“I wouldn’t know, Hermione stopped me from doing it, she called me an idiot and told me if one of those scary fish that can swim up you when you piss got me it was my own fault.”

“Well, I know we’re anti-Granger but I have to confess I quite agree with her. There’s a time and a place for nudity.”

 

“But we were alone,” Ron groaned. “And it was so hot, and gorgeous… the water felt like silk, I’m telling you.”

“Still, as I said.”

“The point was she stopped me,” Ron looked pensively out at the water. “I let her words change my mind and I… guess that was just one time among many in the eight years.”

“In a relationship I always assumed there should be compromise, but it sounds like she went above and beyond that and demanded your compliance.”

 

Ron hummed his agreement. “Or I let her do it.”

 

_So what would I do if he told me I was an idiot for skinny-dipping here?_

  
He laughed out loud at the notion of plunging into the freezing North Sea. But he was absolutely sure that if Severus told him he _couldn’t_ do it, he would do it just to prove he was nobody’s fool except his own.

 

“What’s funny?” Severus asked.

“I… hmm,” Ron turned to him with a calculative smile. “So am I right in guessing you wouldn’t approve of skinny-dipping anywhere, Severus?”

“Absolutely right,” Severus eyed him suspiciously, as if he sniffed the potential trap.

 

“You know,” Ron reached for the neckline of his coat. “I’m feeling the need for a swim.”  


Severus just stared at him with widened eyes and then shook his head slowly. “You’re mad.”  
“Maybe,” Ron shrugged off his coat and threw it onto the stones where it would not get sandy. His hands flew to raise the hem of his jumper, revealing his toned stomach to the cold beach.

“You’re serious?” Severus’ mouth was slightly open.  
“Deadly,” Ron gave him a wink and chucked his jumper on top of his coat.

  
“It’s fucking March!” Severus burst out, hands flying from the warm confines of his armpits to gesture his disapproval.

“Aren’t you clever, you know how a calendar works,” Ron snorted, trying to fight the shiver already pervading through him as he unbuttoned his jeans.

“This is madness, stop _right_ now,” Severus’ voice turned commanding.

 

“Or what?” Ron frowned, stepping out of his jeans, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he was standing nearly naked on a beach in temperatures still suited to February, despite the sunshine. He bent for his boots.

“What are you trying to prove?” Severus demanded.

 

Ron kicked away his socks and turned to the sea. “What d’you reckon, do I need underwear?”

 

Severus’ lip twitched then and Ron thought he saw the beginnings of a smile, but a particularly loud and icy wave splashed spray over them and it disappeared. “You _need_ to put your clothes back on before you catch hypothermia, Weasley.”  


“Oh so you’re last naming me to intimidate me into putting my clothes back on?” Ron’s eyebrows rose into his hair and he shoved his underwear down, letting his cock, small as it was chased away by the icy cold, hang free. He stepped out of the boxers.

 

“You take _one_ step towards the water and I will-”

 

Ron took a very pointed sidestep and then something in Severus obviously snapped.

“There is no need for this, idiot! Whatever you want to believe this doesn’t prove anything.”  
“Shut up,” Ron turned to the water and wondered if he had actually lost his mind.

 

_Could have picked somewhere warmer._

 

“You can _not_ be this fucking stupid!” Severus’ voice was boiling with anger over the wind. “If the shock hits you and freezes your body up, Weasley, I am not coming in after you. I like life. I like the fucking warmth.”

 

Provided with the words he needed, Ron leapt forward and kept going until he was waist deep in the water. It was beyond cold and when he finally stopped moving the shock ripped through his body. A wave swelled around him and he was aware of shrieking but he didn’t care. He kicked out his legs from beneath him, grabbed his nose and disappeared beneath the undulating ice.

 

 _Yeah yeah yeah, cleansing bollocksy shite and all that… but fuck, it does feel like that._ He felt his hair plaster to his head and knew when he broke the surface again he would instantly be hit with cold and so stayed down a little longer, forcing his eyes open to look at what lay beneath the water. Eventually the need for breath won out.

 

His first view was of the beach and he shook his hair out madly with another obscenity shouted out at the cold which claimed him. And then he laid eyes on Severus who looked caught between rage and shock.

 

Ron shivered and made his way closer to the shore again, knowing just how ridiculous he was going to look tumbling out of the sea with his cock shrivelled up in protest, but he was riding too high on the justice of his point.

 

“I don’t have to listen any more,” he said with a gust of breath.

“That much is obvious,” Severus’ tone was just as icy as the water had been.

“Hey,” Ron frowned. “Where are my clothes?” he whipped round to look at Severus who slowly hooked up an eyebrow and shrugged. “You bastard,” Ron growled, feeling the cold permeate his bones. “Give me back my clothes.”  
“You wanted to be naked,” Severus slid his hands into his pockets nonchalantly.

 

“S-Severuss,” Ron’s teeth began to chatter as the joke slid dangerously closer to the edge of unfunny.

 

“Hmm,” Severus looked at him. “You’re lucky, I’ve heard certain body parts actually fall off at temperatures like this…” His eyes fixated at Ron’s much diminished genitals.  
“Alright, I get it,” Ron fumed. “Give me my stuff back.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” Ron cried. “For fuck’s sake. What fucking big thing is it to you if I want to do something mad like jump into the North Sea naked? I can do what I want!”

“You’re a fool if you think I’m happy to stand back and watch you push limits that have no need of being pushed!” Severus sprang to life in front of him, the anger back again in his eyes. “You have been hurt, Ron, but there is no need for inane actions to make yourself feel human.”

 

“I just…” Ron shuddered hard and wrapped his arms around about himself. “Look, can we have this fight at the pub?”

“That would involve me giving your clothes back,” Severus hissed.

“And what, you’re going let me stand here and catch my death simply to make _your_ point?” Ron glared. “Shame, you know, I thought you quite liked my cock.”

 

Thinking he might about to be on the receiving end of a punch, Ron flinched when Severus moved, but all that happened was a swift wave of a wand, and then Ron found himself fully dressed, dry and with a continual warmth rolling across his skin.

 

He lost himself in it for a moment, closing his eyes and groaning slightly as his cock was enticed into growing to its usual dormant proportion.

 

“Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes still closed.

 

When lips kissed his own he was surprised and took a step back, but firm hands held him in place.

 

“I understand that you feel the need to prove to yourself that you are yourself again, so that you can find the good in your relationship ending,” Severus said softly in his ear. “But please, keep a lid on actions like this. You have only forced me into acting like she did, and that will do neither of us any good if you force us to assume those roles again. I will be your liberator, Ron, but _not_ like that.”

 

Ron looked guiltily at the man and realised he had never even thought of it like that. “Sorry.”

Another soft kiss was administered before Severus spoke again. “But, then again, you didn’t stop when I kicked off about it…”

“I won’t start doing it with everything,” Ron was quite sure he knew where Severus was going with that sentence. “I promise. I just… you know…”

 

“Come on,” Severus tried to move away but Ron pulled him close.

“Thank you,” he said simply, and kissed him again.  
“For what?”

“Being a prickly bastard,” Ron grinned and hooked his hand around Severus’ neck and pulled him close for an even deeper kiss.

 

***

“Ungh, Severus…” Ron broke off in a gasp, trying to extricate his chin from the tight grip in which it was held. “What part of ‘I’m going for a bath now’ don’t you understand?”

 

Severus answered him by sliding a slicked finger up his arse and biting down on his collarbone.

 

“Oh _fuck,_ ” Ron giggled, his breathy reactions aided by the four glasses of whiskey he’d drunk.

 

The finger cajoled his passage open and Ron bucked forward into the hand suddenly tugging at his cock.

 

“This is far more satisfying than a bath,” Severus whispered hotly in his ear and added a second finger, plunging them in to the hilt and creeping the tips softly back and forth.

“Oh godddddd,” Ron whimpered, unable to force himself into moving despite the fact his hands were completely free. “Severus if you… I’m going to come…”

 

Severus licked the shell of his ear and grinned wickedly at the shout his third finger drew from the redhead. He moved them back and forth slowly, holding the steady pace as Ron thrust back to try and gain his pleasure faster. Wrangling the cock outright from the auburn curls it rested on, Severus let his wrist flip freely back and forth, wanking the shaft with abandon, loving the way Ron’s cries escalated in his ears.

 

“Fuck me…” the begged whimper was like harmonic music and Severus flipped him over then, so they faced each other.

 

Flushed sweaty skin and bright, glittering sapphires looked up at him and his cock twitched at the very sight. Having already lubricated, Severus grabbed Ron’s thighs and pushed them up to his body, exposing his crack and deliciously stretched hole. Dragging ankles up onto his shoulders, Severus grabbed the angry neglected erection prodding against Ron’s stomach and held it before plunging balls deep in one move, grateful of the pillow Ron had somehow had the sense to shove beneath his hips.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Ron choked, looking down and seeing thin fingers wrapped around his cock and feeling the deep burning intrusion in his backside. “So good, Severus…”

 

Severus gave him a sweeping look from beneath dark eyelashes and then committed himself to thrusting hard, pounding the tight passage without restraint, He let go of the erection to wrap his hands around the thighs trailing up his front for better leverage, feeling the strain in his back and legs.

 

“Come on, fuck me harder…” Ron taunted and then was reduced to gasping as Severus complied and hit hard over his prostate repeatedly. “Oh! Oh… OH…”

 

Severus looked down at him losing control and barely clung onto it himself. Ron had not been lying on the first night they’d been together –he _was_ loud. But instead of finding it embarrassing Severus drank in every single sound he could make, from the desperate begs to the little gurgles of disbelief in his throat when the pleasure spiked beyond what he expected.

 

“Going to…c-comAghfuck!”

 

The verbal warning was unnecessary due to the way his stomach suddenly flooded with hot sticky liquid and Ron thrust hard down on Severus’ cock and squeezed, as usual bringing the impetus for his completion.

 

Ron watched through hazy eyes as the pale face adorned by flushed cheeks contorted into an unflattering grimace with parted lips, a positively filthy moan ghosting out of the sinful mouth as his ex-professor pumped his come into his arse.

_Unflattering if he saw it, I just think it’s fucking hot…_

 

Ron groaned as Severus pulled out and then dove down and licked his come from his stomach.

 

“Oh, god, you’re filthy,” he muttered, rolling to try and stop the tickling tongue on his skin.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Severus imitated one of Ron’s favourite retorts with precision and lifted off with a lick in Ron’s navel.

 

***

In the middle of his second week Ron became far too aware of the time slipping away fast. He didn’t mention it to Severus but he knew that all too soon he would be boarding a train home and he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to.

 

_I like it here. It’s easy. And the guy in the kitchen is an amazing cook._

Ron bit off another bite of the cake he was munching just to prove his mind’s thought, and looked into the fire. Severus was in the bedroom doing something for his cousin. He’d gotten snappy the last time Ron had interrupted so he’d retreated to the living room to sulk and stare into the fire moodily, but he found he didn’t really have the heart to be grumpy.

 

He’d had a good day, having decided to apparate back to Edinburgh for a look around and a shop. Severus had neglected the opportunity to go with him and it felt good to explore on his own and call the shots on his own day.

 

_Not like Severus really marshals me into anything… I just tend to go along with what he wants…_

Ron knew that had been half his problem for eight years, that he had been too content to let his life be ruled by another. He carried the acute awareness that it had to stop, that he could not merely let Severus be his new controller, but it was hard to snap into the independent mindset.

 

There had been an awkward moment on the Royal Mile where his heart had leapt into his mouth because he caught sight of brown bushy hair and instantly thought it was Hermione. There was no logical reason she should have been in Scotland but the fear rose in him and rooted his feet to the floor. Of course, the woman had turned around and been nothing like the one he had been due to marry.

 

The other marked improvement in his mindset was that along with fear there was outright anger, and his thoughts were becoming increasingly harsh towards the bookworm he had loved. He wasn’t churlish enough to wish her ill, but he couldn’t help sneering when he thought of her face, her hair, her faults and her quirks.

 

 _I knew I was fucking right, Severus has no fucking trouble in making me come…_ He had never admitted to anybody that for the last year – _the year she was fucking her boss-_ he reminded himself, Hermione had increasingly struggled to bring him to completion, either through her own lack of trying or through his lack of interest.

 

He hadn’t questioned his interest in her until he had seen just how explosive his unions with Severus were. The first time he had blamed it on her, on her touches being subpar, but Ron was really beginning to question whether his own willingness was just as big a factor as anything else.

 

_But I’m not going to tell anyone else that, they’ll just say I’m blaming myself for what she did…_

Ron swallowed the last mouthful of cake and brushed off his hands. He got to his feet and quietly wandered over to the bedroom door and leant against the frame, looking at Severus writing something at the desk. He didn’t interrupt by speaking, but he ambled to the bed and laid down on his front, pulling his pillow from the head of the bed and shoving it under his chin. His feet rose up behind him and waved lazily in the air and he closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

 

_And anyway, if she wants to throw things in my face now, she’s the childish one. And if she wants to get married to her new bloke, then bloody good luck to him. I’m glad she’s off my hands._

Ron liked that he could wear whatever underwear he wanted. He wondered how he’d become quite so whipped that he had let Hermione chose what was most comfortable for his body.

 

 _I’m actually free…_ He smiled serenely into the pillow and found himself feeling better than he had in weeks. Taking a deep inhale he didn’t realise he’d let out a happy purr until it was too late, and instead of disrupting the other occupant of the room even more he just kept his eyes shut carried on sifting through his thoughts.

 

 _I think when I go home it’ll be better… sure, she’ll piss me off… but…_  A light feeling blossomed in his chest and his placid smile turned into a beam.

 

“What are you so happy about?”

 

Severus’ quiet question was heard first, but then Ron felt him as he climbed onto the bed, pushed Ron’s legs down and then straddled across his backside, pressing hands to his back and beginning to massage.

 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Ron apologised.

“I was finished, and this is your space too whilst you are here, you need not worry about walking into the room whilst I’m working…”

Ron just smiled further and rejoiced in the way Severus worked out the tension in his lower back.

 

“Did you have a good time in the city?”

“Yeah, had a nice wander round the castle,” Ron shifted his head on his arms. “And went shopping… Did you have a good day?”

“As simple a day as ever,” Severus leant down and kissed him on the back of the head.

“I like your quiet life,” Ron whispered. “So peaceful.”

“It is preferable with company.”

 

_He can’t just say ‘I like you being here’, can he? Noooo too fucking hard._

 

“Quite lonely by yourself, I imagine…” Ron commented and finally opened his eyes.

“Mm, you could say that,” Severus sighed, and shifted off to drop onto his back.

Rolling to face him, curling one arm up under his pillow and resting the other hand on Severus’ impossibly flat stomach, Ron focused his eyes on the spread silky hair. He didn’t feel the need to speak but smiled when one of Severus’ hands laced into his own.

 

“You seem much calmer,” Severus turned to him, onyx eyes sweeping over the contented countenance of Ron’s face.

“I _feel_ much calmer,” Ron breathed. “Everything is…”

 

He faltered looking over Severus’ very straight hair. It glistened to the very tips and was flat even as it was splayed on the blanket.

“Does your hair ever curl?” Ron blurted suddenly, not taking his eyes from it.

“Not to my knowledge,” Severus frowned.

“Fucking good.”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow but didn’t need an explanation. He could remember Hermione Granger’s hair well enough without making Ron talk about it. He rolled onto his side and engaged the redhead in a kiss, smoothing his hand down over his arse.

“Mmm, yes please,” Ron laughed hopefully.

“I’m going to need a break to get over yours,” Severus muttered and kissed him harder.

 

***

“Are you busy?”

 

The voice made Ron jump as he ducked back out of the closed kitchen, having washing up his lunch plates. The speaker was Severus’ cousin, Helen, who had had never really talked to bar the few nights in the pub when she had utilised him as a bar hand. He wasn’t particularly sure he liked her, she never really spoke or smiled much but he had to wonder what he’d expected –she was Severus’ cousin, after all, and he himself wasn’t one for beaming daily.

 

“No,” Ron shook his head and looked at her enquiringly.

“I need help moving some stuff back at the house,” she was halfway out of the door. “Sev is useless at that stuff because he’s not healthy enough to do the lifting, but you look like you’re in good shape?”

“Sure,” Ron shrugged –he certainly had nothing else planned bar retreating upstairs to nibble at more biscuits and his gut and running schedule would certainly be better off if he found something else to do.

 

“Brilliant,” her face relaxed into a true smile and she waved him out of the door. “Don’t bother with a coat; you’ll be hot enough when you start what I need help with.”

 

Ron followed and put his hands in his pockets, she closed the door with a bang and he looked at it, wondering if he should nip back and tell Severus where he was going.

“Ah, don’t worry about him, he’s stuck listening to a group of elderly ramblers go on about their walking tour,” there was a slightly dark grin on Helen’s face as she said that and Ron couldn’t help his little snort.

“Bet he’s engrossed.”

“Thrilled,” she led him along the village roads. “So. Are you enjoying your holiday?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Thank you again, for letting me stay.”

 

She waved her hand. “Sev rents from me, he can have who the hell he wants to stay… though I can’t say I’m not surprised,” she turned dark eyes on him.

 

Ron swallowed nervously and wondered, not for the first time, quite how much Helen knew about him, about Severus and his past, about what they were.

 

“I know,” she gave him a small smile. “How could I not? My dad was Sev’s dad’s brother… and… well… news travels fast. I’ve always known what Severus was, what Auntie Eileen was…”

 

It was so odd to walk and hear someone talk about Severus’ family like that and he was suddenly bursting with questions.

 

“You’re younger than him, aren’t you?”

“You should never ask a lady her age,” she winked. “But yes, I’m about seven years younger. I only remember Sev from when I was tiny as he went to school four years after I was born… and then his dad died when he was sixteen and we kind of lost track of them after that.”

“How did he get in contact with you?” Ron voiced the question which he’d wanted to ask Severus but never quite worked up the balls.

“It was me that found him,” Helen raised her eyebrows. “By chance, just after his… shall we call it an accident?”  
“That down plays the role but yeah, it’s probably simplest,” Ron shrugged.

“I gave him my address and he did stay in contact, but not until November did he come up here after I said about that fucking bastard leaving me for that bitch in the Post Office,” she snarled at it as they walked past.

 

“I’m sorry to hear about your break-up,” Ron offered.

“Ach, bastard was never good enough for me. Sorry to hear about yours, too.”

“What has Severus told you about…?”

“The fact he’s got a twenty-something popping in and out of his rooms?” She burst out laughing. “He’s not said anything. He’s _Sev._ But I kind of figured it out.”

Ron flushed and looked determinedly at the concrete.

“I must admit half the reason I asked you along was to find out your intentions,” her voice turned subtly hard.

“My intentions?” Ron burned redder. “I…”

“I know you’re hurting,” she said in a no-nonsense tone which reminded him of his eldest brother. “But he’s damaged, any fool can see it. And if you’re only going to damage him further I’m going to rip your balls off and feed them to my horses, do you understand me?”

 

“Understood,” Ron mumbled, running his tongue around the inside of his teeth for something to do. It felt odd having someone to discuss Severus with, because it was a secret at home and he wasn’t going to discuss the man with him himself.

 

“You live a long way away,” she commented next. “Are you planning to move closer to be near him?”

“I can’t,” Ron swallowed. “My job requires me to be close to the capital.”

“But can’t your lot do that travelling thing?”

“We can, but I have to be ready to protect our… well, government, at any moment, and that is based in the city.”  
“So what about Sev, hmm?”

“We’ve agreed that I’ll keep travelling back and forth.”

“Sounds stupid to me,” she led him around the back of her house towards the stables she had for the riding school. “You can’t keep this up. One of you needs to move, and as he doesn’t seem willing to go back to your society…”

 

She looked at him pointedly.

  
“We’re working on it,” Ron assured her. “Hey Dave!” He called to the horse that was half hanging out of his stable.

 

He had become better acquainted to the horse in his two weeks in the north and was no longer scared to be around him.

 

“How about after you’ve finished helping me move the hay and stuff I teach you how to ride him?” Helen asked, looking between the horse and Ron.

“Uh, I don’t-”

“Come on, big burly wizard like you scared of a horse?” She let one eyebrow rise in a manner remarkably reminiscent of Severus and he almost laughed.

“No, I’m not scared, I just…”

“Great, so that’s settled then,” she winked at him. “I’ll even put some mattresses on the floor if it helps.”

“Ha bloody ha,” Ron chewed his lip looking nervously at the horse.

 

 

 

 

“It was because you grabbed his mane,” Helen muttered as she helped Ron through the back door to the pub. “How the hell would you like it if someone yanked on your locks, eh?”

“I was falling,” Ron hissed, “I didn’t know what to do!”

“Well now you’ve got yourself a sprained ankle and a lovely cut on your forehead… some bloody help you’re going to be…”

 

They were cut off from their grumbling banter by a swift movement to their left, which happened to be a somewhat scared looking Severus taking in their form.

“Don’t mind him,” Helen shoved Ron against the stairs. “He’s a fucking klutz.”

“Ron-” Severus’ voice was urgent.

“I know,” Ron muttered, his fingers flying to his forehead where the cut was still bleeding.

“No, listen, Ron there’s-”

“Clean him up, I need a drink,” Helen instructed.

“Look,” Severus hissed loudly. “I… had to get the chef to take over out there,” he jerked his head towards the bar.  
“What, why?” Helen frowned. “Who’s cooking then?”

“Nobody,” Severus groaned and raised his hands up to his temples. “Ron, you need to sort yourself out and go outside. There’s a wizard in the pub, I think. Maybe an Auror?”

 

“What?” Ron gasped, the colour lurching out of his face. “Who? Not Harry, did he see you? Oh my God!”

“I know,” Severus growled. “It’s not Harry, I’ve never seen them before.”  
“Did they get a good look at you?” Ron’s voice wobbled as he realised quite how stupid he had been.

 

Of course his magic, which admittedly he had not used much of in the two weeks he had been there, might have set off the sensor which had led him to Severus in the very first instance.

 

_Fuck and damn this all to hell and back. Nothing’s easy, nothing will let us fucking be!_

“Plan,” he said instantly. “Helen, help me out to the front, make a fuss of my injury. They’ll recognise me if they’re an Auror, I’m senior, and they’ll probably be all over me. I will get close and Obliviate any memories I find of you out of his mind.”

“You can’t do that,” Severus was shocked. “Ron, you can’t alter someone’s memory, you could lose your job!”

“Hell, Severus, they find out I’ve been seeing you for three months they’ll probably give me the sack anyway,” Ron shrugged. “I’ve been so… oh god, WHY, why didn’t I go and disable the fucking sensor?!”

 

Severus looked at him, half-angry and half-scared witless and shook his head. He worriedly folded his arms over his chest and smoothed his hand over his mouth, leaning against the wall. “I think we were lucky, I saw him first and turned straight around. The only thing he probably saw was my back.”

“One body part too much,” Ron sighed. “I want you safe. Come on, Helen.”  
“Please don’t do it unless you have to…”

 

Ron ignored him and winced as he had to put his weight on his already bruising ankle.

 

“Well there goes your horse riding holiday,” Helen played her part admirably as she steered Ron through the door into front of house.

“I know,” Ron groaned, casting his eyes about the pub to see quite who had been sent to investigate the reoccurring magic.

 

Relief flooded his body as he saw it was a Junior who was just finishing up their pint.

“Ron, is that you?” There was true surprise in the voice and Ron instantly knew Severus was safe from the smiling notion of the man’s face.

“Hey Pat, what’re you doing here?”

 

The Auror threw Helen a nervous look and she took the hint and walked away as Ron lowered into a chair. The Junior took the seat opposite from him and looked worriedly at the cut on his forehead.

“Never go on holiday to the country,” Ron gave him an exasperated look. “It’s just dangerous.”

“What happened?”

“Horse,” Ron made a face. “Please don’t tell anybody at work that.”

 

The man snorted and said. “Oh well now I know it’s you I can go home again. Really is the back end of nowhere this, isn’t it?”

“Nice though,” Ron amended. “Why were you here?”  
“Picked up some unexplained activity, but, well…” he waved a hand at Ron. “Explained. As long as you’re being careful I won’t even bother to file a report.”

“Of course,” Ron lowered his voice. “I am always careful.”

 

_Not nearly fucking careful enough you fucking lunatic. Honestly, what a tool._

“So quiet, I’ve not seen another soul,” Pat got back to his feet again and stretched. “Glad I’ve found you to be honest, going out for drinks tonight and didn’t want to be late.”

“Good to see you, I’ll see you again when I’m back,” Ron gave him a smile.

“I’m sorry about what happened mate, I saw the recording of your fight in the room –fucking amazing.”

“Kings was right to sign me off,” Ron sighed. “But look, can you do me a favour? I’m hiding from my family… wanted peace and quiet from everyone. Do me a massive favour and not tell anyone where I am and I’ll buy you a pint or three when I’m back?”

“Done,” Pat grinned. “You look really, really well, if you don’t mind me saying. Apart from the horse injury.”

 

“You can laugh,” Ron rolled his eyes. “Get out of here.”

“See you soon. Enjoy the rest, ‘kay?”

 

Ron watched him leave the pub and then flew out of his chair to watch him through the pub window. He disappeared behind the memorial and popped out of sight. Ron breathed a huge sigh of relief.

 

“Alright?” Helen asked, watching him wobble on his painful ankle.  
“He’s gone, he didn’t know anything. Nobody in our world would be able to see him and _not_ comment on it, trust me.”

 

Ron said no more but limped his way into the back, but Severus was nowhere to be found, so he awkwardly made his way up the stairs and saw that the bedroom door was shut. It was never shut. Feeling a hideous sense of foreboding, he knocked gently on the door and called out.

  
“If you know what is good for you, go away,” the muffled reply came and Ron frowned, heart sinking that Severus had shut himself away.

 

Two weeks with the man had told him a lot about him. An open challenge provoked him, an open disagreement riled him and blind devotion invoked madness. So Ron turned away and sat down on the sofa to do as Severus asked, knowing it would likely draw him out of the room. He put his ankle up on the coffee table and pulled out his wand to cast a sweep for broken bones, of which there proved none, because the entirety of his ankle stayed green before the haze faded.

 

_Well, that’s something at least. Fuck me, I’m an idiot. Idiot idiot idiot._

He levitated the mirror out of the bathroom and caught it, positioning the glass so he could see the cut on his forehead.

 

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, seeing the gash which had matted his hair with blood. He pushed it back and saw that the majority of the cut had already scabbed. He jabbed his wand at it and hissed through the antiseptic spell working its way through the wound, feeling the skin tighten again. Then he poised the tip of the wand at the end of the cut, let his magic surge through his arm and uttered the healing incantation, dragging it along to form a well-healed pink scar.

 

“Did you just heal your own head?” Severus’ voice was quiet from the doorway and Ron’s eyes snapped up and saw him ashen faced, looking slightly sick.

 

“Yeah,” Ron shrugged as he cleaned the blood out of his hair. “I had training for work. To be honest, I prefer to heal myself than let anybody else at me with their wand… I still remember Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry’s arm in second year.”

 

“Ah, he was a ponce of the highest kind,” Severus looked at the fire and smiled slightly, some of the colour returning to his cheeks.

“I feel kind of guilty about what happened to him… it was meant for me,” Ron set the mirror and his wand down.

“And that is why you are entirely too big hearted,” Severus sighed and walked over to sit down beside him.

 

“The Auror was only a Junior,” Ron assured him. “And he had no idea. And he’s not filing a report, and he’s not telling anybody where I am.”

“They could always Legilimens him to find out,” Severus muttered.

“Well, Severus, if someone was that desperate to find me they’d be able to trace me. I had to pay for my train tickets with a card because it was so fucking extortionate… and I bought items in Edinburgh the other day, it would be very easy for someone to trace me if they were looking.”

“That does not help.”

“It’s not meant to be helpful, I’m just saying,” Ron shrugged. “You… look. Would you like me to go? If I’m gone, then the Ministry is gone too.”

 

Severus had grabbed his hand quicker than Ron thought it was possible for the man to even move.

“No, you’re staying with me till the absolute last second that I have to let you go.”

 

The fervency in the words sent Ron reeling and his breath caught in his throat. A glance sideways told him Severus was glaring at him with glittering eyes.

 

“Okay,” Ron nodded. “If that’s what you want… you want me…”

 

“I do,” Severus spoke softly, and then he blushed and looked away.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ron bit into his lip nervously. “I want you, as well.”

“So… are we…”

“What?” Ron swallowed.

 

With the sort of sigh one attributed to the weight of finding Voldemort banging on the door, Severus looked down in his lap. “The fact that we want each other does not change our logistical difficulties.”

“I know that,” Ron turned to him. “But this isn’t… I think if we want this to work, we’re going to have to forget the ‘difficulties’.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Severus chucked Ron’s hand aside and got up to pace in front of the fire. “I am meant to be dead. You are a Senior Auror and a highly honoured War Veteran. All it takes is one reporter sniffing around and my secret is out.”

 

“Would it… Severus… would it really be such a bad thing if it was out?” Ron looked at him questioningly. “Don’t bite my head off; just tell me _why_ you’re so scared of being found. You know you’re not headed for Azkaban.”

 

Severus gave him a long hard look and then said, “I suppose I don’t really believe all of those good things would have happened to my name if my body had been alive to accompany it. After all this time, with my magic not fully up to scratch… I would not last five seconds in that hell hole, and I didn’t stay alive for eight years to be caught and die there.”

“Well, I get that Severus… but Harry would fight.”

“I don’t want Potter to fight for me!” Severus hissed. “I thought we made this clear on our very first night together? I never asked him to try and canonise me.”

 

“Anyone who has heard you on a rant knows you are far from saintly, Severus,” Ron smirked.

“Be serious. Today could have been an unmitigated disaster for us both. I have told you, I do not want back in on your world, Ron. I cannot even consider it for the changes it would reverse, changes I freely embraced eight years ago.”

“Both?” Ron frowned. “Why me? What would me being discovered here with you do?”

 

“Well, for starters, I’d imagine your job would go down the pan, plus then you would be outed to the wizarding world and your family…”

“My family haven’t got anything to do with it,” Ron said firmly. “If they didn’t approve they could shut up and hold their tongues. And do you know what I’d say to make them do it, Severus?” he got to his feet and walked close to him.

 

“What?” Severus’ voice trembled slightly with the question.

“I’d say they all approved of Hermione, and to look how that fucking turned out.”

 

Silence permeated the room and the only sounds were their breathing, the fire crackling and one of the rats having a scratch in their cage.

 

 “And so you’d be willing to announce your newfound sexuality to the wizarding world if someone found us?”

“Yeah,” Ron shrugged. “People are gay, bisexual all the time. Hell, it came out about Dumbledore.”

 

Severus’ eyes flew wide. “They outed Dumbledore?”

“You knew?” Ron smirked.

“Of course I bloody knew -how does one man have a library of knitting patterns and his own colour coded wardrobe and _not_ be a flagrant homosexual?”

 

Ron choked on his laughter. “Oh… oh…” he was laughing too hard to get his words out. “You… ah… fuck it Severus.”

“I spent a week clearing out that office of everything belonging to the man,” Severus had a smile on his face. “The _things_ I found.”

“Don’t want to know,” Ron put his hands up, still laughing. “Look, Severus… I don’t know what we have, I don’t know what we are… though I’m kind of interested to see what’ll happen when I say you’re my ‘boyfriend’…”

“At forty-seven don’t you think that is a little…”

“Well I’ve been referring to you as my lover in my head for ages,” Ron shrugged. “Which you are.”

“Except that we do not love each other,” Severus rolled his eyes and then flushed a little and looked away, which Ron didn’t miss but chose not to highlight on the meaning.

“Well to be honest, lover’s more the word you give to the dirty mistress isn’t it?”

“I’m your dirty mistress?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“No, you’re a man; it’d be dirty master…”

“But then mastery indicates domination and slavery,” Severus bartered, lips curving into a smirk.

“Well…” Ron took a step forward and ran a teasing finger down Severus’ chest. “I’m not saying I’d not be up for a bit of that at some point… but then I can’t really take you home and say, “Hey Mum, Dad… you don’t have to worry about me any more, this is my Master. He’s let me off my lead for the visit but when we go home tonight he’s going to spank my backside for being a naughty, naughty boy and fuck me over a whipping rack…’ can I?”

 

“It sounds like you’ve thought a lot about that speech,” Severus grabbed him around the waist and turned him towards the bedroom.

“Oh, I have,” Ron’s voice lowered to a gruff rumble. “I’ve thought an awful lot about the finer points, especially the part where you fucked me…”

 

They were kissing then, stumbling blindly backwards with Ron limping on his bad ankle.

“Painkiller,” Severus grunted, grabbing it from the sideboard as they passed and flicking open the cap. Ron obediently opened his mouth and felt it slide down his throat.

“Why did I need that?” he breathed after another ravishing kiss.

 

Severus smoothed hands through his windblown hair and gave him a dirty grin. “Well… what about if I were to point out that we have been together for a while now and our… _endeavours_ have been decidedly… one-sided.”

“I’ve sucked you off more times these last two weeks than you’ve had showers,” Ron protested.

“Ah, yes… a fact which gives me pleasant dreams at night,” Severus manhandled him towards the bed with all the slick grace of a panther waiting to strike on his prey. “But you’ve never taken me as I’ve taken you…”

 

Ron gulped hard and his mouth fell open to protest, until he realised that he didn’t want to.

 

_Fuck yeah, the chance to get him screaming like he makes me scream… oh yes, I’m going to enjoy this…_

 

“What do you say?” Severus was running his lips over Ron’s face in the pretence of gentle kisses.

“I say get on the fucking bed,” Ron looked at him from beneath his fringe.

 

It was only then that he realised that Severus was shaking with anticipation. The man stepped away from him and immediately began to strip and Ron darted through to the living room, the painkiller having numbed his ankle, and closed the door and locked it. When he made it back to the bedroom, Severus was waiting for him, gloriously pale and naked on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, his legs bent up and spread slightly.

 

Appreciating the view with raking eyes that he never thought could stalk the outline of a hip or a thigh with such hunger, Ron stripped out of his own clothes and took a moment to teasingly slide his jeans off when he noticed Severus was watching him intently.

 

“Oh, really, you’re turning into a stripper now, as well as being my slutty aside?” Severus smirked at him.

“What did you call me?” Ron’s mouth fell in mock indignation.  
“Slutty aside,” Severus challenged.

“Filthy perverted bastard,” he was crawling across the bed then, chucking his wand down beside him. “Honestly… preying on twenty-something redheads and making them scream with delight on almost a nightly basis…”

“Just to prove I’ve still got the stamina, of course,” Severus’ voice was getting lower and huskier and Ron thought he might start sweating from the raw heat that seemed to be radiating from the pale skin.

 

He ran his hands over Severus’ thighs with agonizing slowness and made sure his thumbs dragged along the sensitive insides. He wasn’t surprised when the cock in front of him twitched and swelled almost as if someone had filled it manually.

 

“Easy, aren’t we?” Ron chided, before ducking down and capturing it in his mouth, teasing it to full hardness with his lips clamped firmly around the glans.

“For you,” Severus drawled disinterestedly, reaching out one hand and spreading his fingers as they sank into Ron’s hair as he suckled away between his legs.

 

His indifference melted away when there was a gentle thrumming motion through his groin when Ron began to hum and he moaned aloud. Ron popped off the end of his cock with a smirk, sending a few lazy laps at the veiny flesh.

 

“Easy and desperate.”

“Oh, I hardly think you have any room with which to play the desperation card,” Severus looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I’d say you’re pretty desperate,” Ron moved back and reached for his wand. He trailed the end of it over the reddened erection, down over heavy balls and then continued down the perineum until he grazed over Severus’ entrance. “You’re the one that hasn’t been fucked in…how many years was it?”

 

“A fair point but I assure you I am quite effectively prepared for you,” Severus looked away.

 

The next thing he felt was the stretching and lubrication spell assaulting him and he groaned, a shiver running up his spine at the sensation he had not felt for such a long time.

 

“You can’t even handle the spell,” Ron rolled his eyes. “Maybe you’ll come before I even get in you…” He was rubbing lube over his cock, fully erect despite the fact that Severus hadn’t laid a finger on him.

“Well… I give you that grace so it is only fair that you should give me the same…”  
“I was a virgin,” Ron grinned evilly.

“No excuse, nobody gave me such breathing room...”

 

Ron launched at him then and crushed their cocks together, his face right up in Severus’ and he captured him in a searing kiss which his tongue utterly dominated. Breaking off and seeing Severus gasp for breath, he smirked again. “Fine then, no breathing room for you, born-again virgin…”

 

He reached down and pinched at the hardening nipples, keeping them between his fingers until they had sharpened into nubs, and then he twisted them slightly, his cock growing harder at the half-scream which rent the room.

 

Ducking and latching his lips onto one of the nipples, he lowered his hand. Severus hadn’t noticed or commented on the fact that he’d already greased his fingers and so when he reached down beneath twitching sacs and pressed one into the man, the surprised shout didn’t make him falter at all, he’d been expecting it. He released the nipple to look at him as he worked his finger inward, creeping and searching.

 

“You…” Severus was breathless as Ron explored his body and then arched and moaned when there was a gentle brush over his prostate. “Fuck… I’d forgotten just how… ohhhh.”

 

Severus melted like an ice cream in the sun under Ron’s administrations and it nearly made the redhead blow then and there.

“Would you like another?” He whispered in his ear.

 

There was an abrupt nod of the head and some of the jasmine scented hair bounced into Ron’s face.

 

“Beg me for it then,” Ron kissed beneath the ear in which he was pouring his velvet tone and waited for Severus to react when he roughly moved across the spot deep within him.

“Ohhh you little whore,” Severus writhed. “You…”  
“Beg me,” Ron kissed again.

There was an infuriated growl. “Please… more….”

 

He complied instantly and slid a second in, the spell having made his way wonderfully clear. He pushed all the way in and then pulled out again before plunging in faster, making up the pace which Severus soon began to shunt his hips to.

 

“So now then…” Ron pulled out until only his finger tips remained inside the stretched hole, making his lover moan for the missing fullness. “Now what do I do?”

“Fuck me,” Severus hissed, his eyes shut and eyelashes scraping across his cheekbones, flushed to higher colour than Ron had ever had the pleasure of seeing them before.

“How do you want to be fucked?” determined to make the man squirm as he had been made to, so many times, Ron pushed his luck further and further.

“I don’t care!” Severus burst out wildly. “Just fuck me, please…”

 

There was a rasp in his throat and Ron spared a thought for the headache the man was going to have at the end of it. _But it must have been worth it to him, or he would never have asked._

_Damn, he asked… he asked me to fuck him…_

Ron reached out and pulled Severus away from the headboard, turning him around so that he was in exactly the same position as the first time they had ever fucked. He appreciated the man from behind, looking at thin but strong thighs, peppered with dark hair; the firm outline of his buttocks and the manly slim hips leading to a narrow back.

 

_He really is so very thin…_

 

Ron smoothed his hands down the backs of the mans thighs and tugged his knees apart a little further, before sliding  along horizontal calves until they bumped over heels and traced onto the arches of Severus’ feet. There was a hiss and Ron jumped slightly, but then he realised the kind of hiss it had been and the way Severus’ back had gone rigid with anticipation. Extending an index finger on each hand, he ghosted up the long arches and then over the pads. He danced along the sensitive edge between it and Severus’ toes and swallowed when the hiss became a delicious moan.

 

“You like that?”

“Obviously,” the word was tense and Ron was delighted that he had the man so tightly strung for him, on his first attempt.

“I’ll note that for later,” Ron raised his hands and parted the cheeks in front of him, seeing the way the skin darkened and the hair there was just as dark as that on Severus’ head.

 

 _Seriously, if you’d told me five months ago I’d find that as sexy as hell I’d’ve slapped you senseless…_ Ron had to swallow his want at the explicit view.

  
“Fuck you’re sexy, Snape,” he bit into his lip as he smirked, and then he grabbed one of the cheeks, making sure his nails dug into the skin, something he knew Severus liked from the way he mewled when Ron clawed at his back.

 

“Then might I suggest you get on with it?” again the words were hissy and wanton and there was absolutely no meaning behind the snark.

“Can’t you just lose the vocabulary during sex?”

“Why don’t you fuck it out of me and then we shall see?”

 

Ron wasn’t going to ignore a challenge issued so brazenly and he kneed forward, pumping his cock a few times and guiding it forward. He felt miraculously confident in a way he had never managed with Hermione, he realised, as he pressed his weeping head to the entrance of the man who had taught him such feeling.

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for fifteen sodding minutes Weasley, just fuck me before I-”

 

Ron cut him off by thrusting forward and lodging himself in the tight passage and he groaned at the heat. He had never thought himself particularly well endowed but as the walls gripped him hard he had to wonder if he’d been mistaken. He put his hands in a bruising grip on Severus’ hips and growled as he sunk all the way in, loving the feel of his balls pressing into another pair.

 

Beneath him Severus was trembling and holding very still.

“Alright?” Ron lowered to press a kiss into the visible spine.

“Never… ah… better,” Severus muttered back. “Move.”

 

Ron didn’t need to be told twice, he moved his hips back before plunging in again and his eyes rolled back in his head at the way the roasting heat felt so much better when he moved at speed. Soon he was pounding, hard, holding Severus’s hips tight in place, and he opened his eyes to appreciate the way that the dark head bobbed and flung about in front of him teemed with the sensual approval tumbling forth out of Severus’ mouth.

 

“And… you… called… me… ah fuck…” Ron gasped and sped up. “Loud.”

“UnghfuckyouWeasley,” Severus flushed hard at the way it all came out as one big undignified stream of words. “Fuck you…”  
“No, you’re the one with my cock up your arse,” Ron was surprised at the way the growling roughness tumbled out of him and he snapped his hips hard, arse clenching tightly with every smack into Severus’.

 

He didn’t know what made him do it, but he reached forward and tangled his fingers in the silky tresses flying everywhere because of his thrusting. He tugged it back with moderate force and moaned when Severus’ moaned.

“Like that?”

“Fuck don’t you dare stop… ah…”

 

Ron couldn’t have stopped if he’d been run over by a steamroller. His orgasm was building in his belly and thighs and fire claimed his balls and spread up his shaft, and then he was coming with a scream so rough and raw it sounded painful and Severus lost it without a single further touch to his own cock. He thrust backwards onto the dribbling cock in his arse, determined to wrangle every last inch of pleasure that he could from the redhead and wrapped a hand to milk his cock through his orgasm.

 

“Sweet Merlin’s balls,” Ron nearly laughed at the slang which tumbled out of his sated ex-Professor’s lips as they both sagged on the bed, trembling with their exertions.

 

Shifting his hips back, Ron had to look down when he pulled out, seeing the abused hole and shivered when he saw his own come drip out and land on his knee. He swallowed and with much more gentle hands reached for Severus’ hips.

“C’mon,” he whispered, moving out of the way as Severus fell down onto his back and instinctively curled up to hide his naked body. “No, don’t hide,” Ron chided, batting down the bent knees and forcing away arms trying to hide his chest.

 

He covered the body with his own and wrapped his arms around it, placing a sweet kiss on Severus’ lips. Ron was thrilled when he was kissed back with tongue, surprised that after such rough treatment Severus wanted to kiss him so tenderly.

“That was… you… who knew you had that lurking inside you?” Severus whispered as they broke apart.

“I wasn’t too…?”

“You were fucking perfect.”

 

Ron ducked his head and hid just how happy hearing that made him in Severus’ neck.

 

***

Ron hummed blissfully, looking over at Severus dozing on the pillow next to him. They were both in bed on the Saturday morning as rain drove past the window in rods and neither planned to leave their lodgings at all. The bed was so warm that Ron thought such movement would be utter madness. He rolled onto his side so he faced Severus and looked at him as he slept -an action which was fast becoming his favourite activity.

 

It hurt to know that in two days time he would be back in London waking up in his own bed, alone. His three weeks of peace and, he could not deny, happiness were nearly over and he was apprehensive of what waited for him in London. Breaking from his job for a while had really taught him just how much he loathed the thought of going to it of a morning, of how much tension immediately crept into his neck as he stepped out of the Floo and headed for his office.

 

 _An office I was so bloody proud to get…_ Ron picked a stray bit of fluff of the blanket and thought about the week ahead. He already had his cover story as to where he had been –he would partially tell the truth and say he’d holed up in lodgings in Scotland, and spent three weeks alone eating fine cheese and getting pissed on delicious whiskey (thus far his lack of company was the only lie in the description). He would say he’d had a lot of time to think and that he felt much better for it. Again, it was not a lie. Ron felt better than he had in months, even before the break up.

 

But he wouldn’t be able to tell his family and friends why, who had made him feel so relaxed in the mire his life had accumulated.

 

There was no doubt it was Severus, and only the thought of leaving him behind was threatening to pierce Ron’s happy bubble of contentment.

 

_He’ll hit the roof if you get clingy… just try and get through today and know that you’re leaving far closer than you arrived…_

And closer they most certainly were. Ron had learned incontrovertible evidence that really, when it boiled down to it, Severus was a very simple man in terms of what he wanted in life, and what he took from it, and Ron couldn’t help but cherish him for it. Even though he knew the man’s financial status, Ron wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t have been the same with more money in the bank. He just took heart in small things. He ate very little due to how the venom had affected his body, but if one tried to separate him from his morning cup of tea there was all hell to pay. Severus simply did not function before it. Nor did he appreciate people removing books from his bookcase and leaving them lying around. Extremely tidy unless he was in the heat of the moment, when all bets were off and if one’s pants landed on top of the wardrobe it was one’s own fault for not removing them first, the rooms remained as orderly as when Ron had first seen them, despite his presence.

 

 _What else have I learned…hmmm…?_ Ron smiled at the sleeping figure. _I’ve learned that he purrs somewhat like a cat if you scratch behind his ears, which is fucking hilarious… I’ve learned that he cheats at Scrabble and fixes the tiles…_

 

Ron remembered the memorable night where he’d received a rack of Q’s, X’s, Y’x and Z’s with good humour, though he had reacted very differently at the time.

 

_Dirty cheating Slytherin scum is what I called him… well, it was the truth. He made up for it though…_

 

Thoughts turned to dirtier exploits and Ron’s grin widened. Severus was undoubtedly the most sensual person he’d ever had the pleasure to come across. He wasn’t sure if he should be as surprised as he was on that matter. A man who had given his life to protect the boy of the woman he loved even though she never loved him back was bound to be passionate in bed. And when Ron watched, and he had become an _ardent_ watcher of Severus Snape, he could see it in every little move the man made. Many would confuse him for cold and unfeeling, but Ron knew differently. All he had to do was recall the spark in the dark eyes to know that he was anything but cold and unfeeling, that his restrained movements were the effort to hold in his true passionate flow, which up until Ron, nobody had ever really seen.

 

“Stop staring at me,” Severus grunted, shifting his head slightly on the pillow. “Feel like I’m on display in a zoo, Weasley.”

“Good morning to you too,” Ron snorted.

“What time is it?”

“Half past eight,” Ron craned his neck at the clock and there was an enraged groan from beside him.

 

Light disappeared as Severus yanked the duvet up over both of their heads and clamped the redhead to his body. Ron thought he heard a distinct mutter of ‘too fucking early to be awake’ before there was a soft snore, and Severus was gone again. Ron followed shortly after.

 

***

“I love this song,” Ron listened to the half-decent person singing into the microphone.

 

The pub was full on his last night in Scotland and they were surprisingly both there, even though Severus had made sure he didn’t have to work. It was an open-mic night and there had been a surprising level of talent which kept Ron amused whilst Severus read one of the muggle papers lying around.

 

“Yes, any song that contains the line ‘She’s a PhD in I told you so, you’ve a knighthood in I’m not listening’ was bound to catch _your_ attention,” Severus flicked Ron a dark amused glance over the paper.  
“Very true, it’s like the story of my life,” Ron gestured with a grin, the fine whiskey flowing through his veins making him beautifully free in movement.

“You listen to me and I say that all the time,” Severus rolled his eyes.

 

“Well, I don’t mind it when you say it,” Ron nudged against him.

 

A cheer went up as the song finished and the person hung up their microphone.

 

“Well the list is empty now so I’ll put the music back on,” Helen’s voice crackled over the microphone and then gentle music filled the pub and everyone fell to chattering.

 

Ron drained his glass and set it down on the table, groaning slightly at the burn in his throat.

“Oh look, you’re empty!” One of the locals noticed. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“In the morning,” Ron made a sad face.

“Aye been good to have ye,” the man smiled at him. “Even if ye are shite at pulling pints.”  
“I’m clearly not cut out to be a barman,” Ron shrugged with a helpless grin. “Which is probably best for everyone all round, really.”

 

The man winked and walked away to the bar, waited for the girl working the shift to pour something and came back.

“That’s for you lad, hope you’re over whatever little trollop broke yer heart.”

“Ah, trollop,” Ron laughed. “I love that word. It’s fitting, actually, I feel. What’s that?”

“That’s just a little something local,” he handed it over. “Don’t ask what’s in it, not safe for your heart to hear such things. Just down it and be happy lad.”

 

He gave him a tip off with his hand and left the pub.

 

“If that’s what I think it is,” Severus peered at the glass, “You won’t make your train in the morning.”

 

Ron looked at the liquid, which looked harmless enough, and brought it to his nose to sniff. He detected the matured whiskey he’d fallen in love with over the last three months, and something sharper, more like paint stripper and then something slightly coconutty.

 

“I seriously don’t want to know, do I?” he laughed, looking at Severus.

“Definitely not.”

“I’m going to drink it,” Ron took a deep breath. “If I miss the train, oh no, I’ll just be a bit late.” He lowered his voice. “And anything, Severus, that keeps me here for longer in your arms… golden with me.”

 

He toasted the glass to Severus, put it to his lips and knocked it back in two gulps. He was rasping as he came out of the other side and he shook his head as his eyes watered.

 

Severus was looking at him with an amused smirk. “I’m not carrying you up the stairs.”  
“Well then you’ll just have to give me my goodbye fuck down here…” Ron suggestively slid his hand along Severus’ thigh which was blocked from view.

 

“You’ll receive no such thing,” Severus looked back at his paper.

“What?” Ron yelped drunkenly.

 

Severus sighed. “What makes you think I’m going to let you go in the first place to warrant such a valuable gift?”

 

Ron wobbled on his chair as he took the words in and sucked on his lower lip.

 

“I don’t want to go.”

“You have to.”

“But I don’t want to.”

 

Severus reached under the table and took Ron’s hand in his own and lowered his voice. “I do not want you to leave either. But you cannot hide here forever. You have healed and now you must go and show everyone just how much. Including her.”

 

Ron nodded. “I’ll miss you,” he mouthed.

 

“Trust me, Ron, not half as much as I will miss you.”

 

Another squeeze of their hands beneath the table made Ron flush with heat.

 

“Time to leave,” he looked up at the ceiling pointedly.

“Indeed.”

 

They shared a small, secretive smile.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“No, Harry,” Ron hissed.

“But Ron, come on,” Harry turned on his most cajoling tone and pleaded with his eyes.

“You promised last time was _the_ last time,” Ron’s voice lowered to a grumble. “It makes me feel so dirty… so wrong…”

“I know but… Gods, Ron, I need this.” Harry breathed. “I want it like a bee wants honey.”

 

Ron raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest.

 

“It’s like we’re cheating, Harry…”

“Forget it, forget your conscience…” Harry’s eyes widened with dangerous promise. “And… well… it’s time I picked up the slack… I’ll do all the work…”

 

Ron gave a tut and groaned. “Fine, Harry. Fine.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“As long as you don’t make me do the spells,” Ron bargained.

 

Harry gave an eager nod, grabbed Ron’s arm, and pulled him through the door to the muggle pizza restaurant with a massive grin on his face. Immediately growing hot, Ron unzipped his jacket and glowered at his best friend. Eight years on he hated that Harry was still playing the ‘I want to do all the things I was deprived of in my childhood’ card, especially when they seemed to play this particular card every single month.

  
“Table for two please,” Harry turned on his charm to the girl waiting to seat people.

“Flirt,” Ron muttered under his breath looking at the walls.

 

They were seated near the salad station, much to Harry’s delight.

“We don’t need menus,” Harry spoke in a pleasing voice.

“Yes, we do this every fucking month,” Ron rolled his eyes and shrugged his coat off his shoulders.

 

Harry kicked him under the table and placed their order flawlessly and the girl tottered off looking slightly dazed.

“Honestly, Ron, don’t look at it like we’re cheating… its salad… and I frankly think for the price they charge they should let you up there more than once.”

“I wonder how the Prophet would react if they knew the Boy Wonder goes to muggle restaurants and charms the food so he gets multiple trips to the salad bar…” Ron tapped his fingers on the table to the music playing softly in the background.

  
“Look, shut up,” Harry kicked him again. “It’s Friday night, we’re both lonely, how better to spend it than together in our favourite restaurant?”

“You need to get out more,” Ron snorted.

 

They fell silent as their drinks and plates came and when their server had gone again Harry was uttering spells with his wand concealed in his sleeve.

“Dirty,” Ron raised his glass to his lips and looked away.

“And you fucking love it,” Harry hissed.

“Yeah, I really do,” Ron exhaled and gave up the pretence.

 

“I’m going first,” Harry winked and got up.

 

Ron sat back and looked at the other people eating, beginning to feel hungry from the smell of all the cheese which permeated the pizza restaurant. It never took long for him to get over his guilt at what Harry insisted doing with the food.

 

 _Skip the salad, just want pizza now…_ He’d had a long day at work with meetings about security for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup and even though he had willingly taken on the task of organising the team for it, it was bloody hard work and he was tired. The opportunity had come up shortly after his holiday to see Severus in March, and seeing as it was now June they had made excellent headway, but there was still a lot of work to be done before August.

 

 _Mmm… Severus…_ He became distracted as he had done so many times that day thinking of his dark-haired lover in the north. It was heightened by the fact he was heading up to him the next day and all Ron could really think of through his tiredness was a warm embrace, a rough kiss and some hot sex.

d

“Mphback,” Harry announced through a mouthful of cucumber.

“No, really?” Ron rolled his eyes and shifted sideways out of the booth-style seat and picked up his plate. “Fuck, did you leave any for the rest of us?”

 

Harry flipped him off with a grin and Ron turned, feeling even hungrier. Considering he’d had eight years to practice his art his plate was rather beautiful by the time he made it back to the table, carefully carrying the plate lest any of the deliciousness fall off.

 

“Wow, and you call me a pig,” Harry raised his eyebrows.

“What can I say, I’m an artist?!” Ron beamed, chucked some salt over his food, grabbed his fork and dug in.

 

For a while the only sounds were the hungry munchings of two men having been at work all day, but then Harry broke the silence with a slight burp when his plate re-filled and Ron snorted.

“So, where’s Ginny tonight then?”

“Training,” Harry grimaced. “Swear to Godric she’s trying to work herself to death.”  
“Ah, well, at least you make a good couple,” Ron grinned at him.

“How’s the Cup stuff going? Getting closer now. Of course, I have not yet received my complimentary golden box tickets?”

“Freebie slut,” Ron closed his mouth around a forkful of potato salad.

“You know it,” Harry laughed and set down his fork. “Bring on the pizza…”

“I’m not done yet,” Ron complained as Harry cleared the re-filling charms on their plates. “Bastard.”

 

“Should get a move on then, shouldn’t you?” Harry leant back in his seat and heaved a sigh. “So how’re things with you?”

“Fine,” Ron scooped up some pasta salad. “Nothing new to report.”  
“You’re boring,” Harry pointed at him.

“What? Do you want me to make up a social life?”

“No I want you to get one,” Harry reached forward and started folding his serviette in his hands. “You’re… you spend too much time wrapped up in your flat alone.”

“I do not!” Ron protested. “I feel like I never fucking get a moment to myself between you, mum, George and the bloody rest of them. Charlie’s back from Romania permanently now and it’s like he _never_ leaves.”

“Charlie’s great though,” Harry frowned.  
“Yeah but not at two thirty in the morning when you’ve got to be up at six,” Ron pointed out. “He’s just full of bloody energy.”

 

“So,” Harry spoke and Ron immediately dreaded what was coming out of his mouth next –he had been Harry’s friend for fifteen years and he knew that ‘so’. “Have you thought about maybe dating anybody, Ron?”

 

_Hahahahahaha. Way ahead of you, Harry._

 

And Ron was. The last time he and Severus had met he had slipped dangerously close to saying ‘I love you’. _But we all know that’s stupid, you can’t fall in love with someone in five months._ “Nah, not really in the mood yet.” _Oh, I dunno… is it stupid?_

“You should get back out there,” Harry said softly. “It’ll make it better.”  
“Really, being fucked around by more witches, just what I need, Harry.”

 

They broke off again as their pizza arrived and they had their usual fight about cutting it up and dividing it equally.

 

“Nobody that’s caught your eye at all?” Harry needled.

“No, Harry,” Ron mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “Nobody.”

 

_Liar, liar, pants on fire **so** hard they have smouldered to ashes._

 

“Sorry, I know you must feel like everyone wants in on your business,” Harry said apologetically. “But we’re just worried about you…”

“I know,” Ron shrugged. “But I don’t need to be set up or pushed out on dates, Harry…”

“Because you’ve already found someone?”

 

Ron knew Harry was just guessing randomly but the question still put his back up and he swallowed his mouthful. “No.”

“Alright alright alright, don’t get all moody with me.”

 

Ron didn’t reply to that but his thoughts turned to something which had been plaguing him recently. He knew that it would probably bowl everyone close to him over if they were to learn he had been shagging a man for nearly six months. He kept trying to find a way to test the water but kept getting interrupted.

 

He cleared his throat. “Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, gods, don’t you know where your mouth is?” Ron asked exasperatedly, seeing the pizza smeared around his best friend’s mouth.

Harry wiped his mouth off with the serviette and grinned impishly. “I’m hungry, I don’t give a damn what I look like!”

“Which is why you’ve not had cosmetic surgery yet, though at least you changed your glasses,” Ron winked.

 

Harry kicked him again beneath the table and then said, “What did you want to say?”

“I realise this isn’t entirely the most appropriate place for this conversation,” Ron hooked an eyebrow and smirked. “But… if I said that since I’d broken up with Hermione, I’d been… erm, interested… by blokes more than women, what would you say?”

 

“Fuck!” Harry dropped his pizza suddenly and Ron winced at his dramatic reaction before he felt the cause.

 

Delving into his pocket he pulled out the burning galleon which was his constant contact to the Auror HQ. The coins were, of course, completely adapted from those that they had used for Dumbledore’s Army at Hogwarts –a means of instant messaging. Ron peered at the message.

 

_‘Senior Aurors needed Oxford Street urgent’._

“We’re off duty,” Harry groaned loudly, chucking his pizza down and brushing off the mess on his trousers where it had landed.

“Not any more,” Ron waved their server over and asked for the bill.

“Ron, I… you…”

“It can wait,” Ron said simply. “Don’t worry, it says urgent, so pay the good lady and let’s leave, huh?”

 

He got to his feet and swung his jacket around his shoulders, and walked outside to the pavement, leaving Harry to pay like he had promised. It was a warm and light summer night and Ron wondered what was waiting for them in Oxford Street. In hindsight he was glad he had not gone straight home, it would have been more of a stretch to make it in time.

 

“Ready?” Harry appeared at his side. “Alleyway over there -should be good for apparition.”

 

Ron followed him wordlessly, mind torn between thinking about what might be waiting for them and what Harry had been going to say to him about liking men. His friend hadn’t looked particularly upset, just shocked. _But then Harry reacts to everything first with shock and then his mood changes…_

 

He didn’t have time to think on it any more as they entered the Alley and quickly turned, heading for the well-hidden apparition spot in the heart of Muggle shopping London. Ron landed perfectly and arranged his wand in his sleeve, keeping his ears open for sounds of trouble, but there was absolutely nothing.

“A bit quiet,” he remarked, seeing that the street was still busy.

“Too quiet,” Harry breathed with a frown, both of them recognised the silencing sweeps in place. “C’mon.”

 

They walked onto the main street and spotted another Senior, older than they were, just a little way down from them amongst the crowds of people, who began waving frantically.

  
“Harry, can you hear something?” Ron frowned, looking around him for the source of the noise he was picking up, sort of a mechanical high pitched squeal which would have been unnoticeable if he had not spent time trying to pick up on his rats’ high communicative frequency.

 

His eyes caught over a rubbish bin and realised that whatever was making the sound was in there.

“Fuck, Harry, that’s muggle!” He hissed, but then the whining sound cut out and Ron yanked his wand out, shoved Harry roughly aside seeing as he was level with the bin and cast the strongest shield charm he could think of around the container.

 

He saw the white flash of light hit the edges of the shield and relaxed when they rebounded back and did not escape, but he was too close. His barrier had not held in the sound waves from what was obviously a sizable explosive device; it felt like his eardrums were being manually burst and there was a massive cracking sound. He didn’t hear his own scream but recognised the feel of concrete beneath his cheek, meaning he’d fallen.

 

 _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._ The pain dragged at him and he screwed up his face. He had always been thrown off guard by anything to do with his ears and he had been riddled with ear infections as a child, meaning they were oversensitive. Either way, as he lay there, he could hear nothing, only the empty buzzing of his own mind and he groaned.

 

***

_Well… this is shit._

 

Those were the only words which Severus could muster to describe his situation as he sat very much alone in the living room above the pub, arms folded sulkily over his chest as he glared the clock and strained his ears for any sound indicating an arrival.

 

The clock read midday and Ron, when travelling on a Saturday, always got there by nine in the morning, he was so eager for them to be together. Severus had fallen into the routine with him, so by sitting there alone he felt angry, worried, stood-up and alone all at once.

 

_And he hasn’t even sent a message…_

 

Severus swallowed on a dry throat and blinked a few times. The one time Ron had ever been late coming to him, he had sent a Patronus message to apologise and give details. But the silver Jack Russell had not glided through the walls at all and Severus found himself longing to see it, if he could not have Ron instead.

 

_Which is ridiculous. You are entirely too attached to the boy. Man. Boy._

His mental arguing served as a welcome distraction as he fell into thought about his toned and muscled redhead who should have been there, wrapped around him in a sated heap in bed. A smile flitted across his thin lips as he thought of the delights which awaited them when Ron finally turned up. It was his turn to play bottom in the relationship which had been interchangeable ever since the first time Ron had had him in March. They alternated between visits and Severus had thought of not much more than being pounded into the mattress since the last time he had seen his friend.

 

_It sounds so wrong calling him that… he’s much more than that and we both know it._

 

He smoothed his fingers over his lips deep in thought at their situation, and how the relationship had evolved. Since Ron’s three weeks with him, the man had changed considerably. There was a breadth to his shoulders again, a brightness in his eyes which Severus had never quite seen before but was fascinated with. He realised that with every passing visit Ron was changing, possibly back to his old self –the one Severus had never known having only known him in the midst of turmoil.

 

_And that’s unfair, as he will never have the opportunity to see me so whole and healthy…_

But Severus was nobody’s fool. As much as he saw the changes in Ron, he also saw those in himself, how he felt stronger, more able to deal with the trivial pursuits of his days and above all able to give himself wholly when Ron apparated into the village and swept them both up in the whirlwind which resembled their partnership.

 

He knew the signs. He knew that he looked forward to each impending visit with a joy far greater than that which implied simple contentment. No, he knew that he felt much more for Ron than he was letting on.

 

 _But then he’s not exactly come forth with adorations either. Probably because he’s scared witless of what I’ll say…_ The clock ticked to quarter past and Severus sighed. With no word he had absolutely no idea what to do. He was resolute he would never cast his own Patronus again, and that robbed him of his own opportunity to contact the man.

 

Severus wasn’t even particularly sure he had the magic reserves to cast such a strong creature again. He had been envious, a few weeks before, when Ron had received a message from George requesting his company because he was upset. The redhead had faltered, looking between the shaggy wolfhound in front of him and Severus, chewing on his lip. Severus had of course told him to go to his brother, quoting the adage that blood was thicker than water. Ron had turned and looked as though he had been about to mention something about counting Severus as blood, but stopped.

 

Then Severus had been forced to watch as Ron pulled out his wand and drummed up his own Patronus, his eyes closed and a smile on his face, as simple as one breathed in and out. It wasn’t just because Severus couldn’t do it in his current state –it was because even in his youth conjuring his Patronus had _never_ been such a simple act. And yet Ron, who had been through so much hurt in the recent past, managed just fine.

 

 _Proof that some people don’t take to happiness as well as others do…_ The glum thought made him groan aloud. He was only sitting and depressing himself as he waited for Ron.

 

_He’s just held up. If I waited forty-seven years for someone like him to come along I can wait a few more hours._

 

“Oh, God,” he got to his feet and scowled at himself in the mirror hanging over the fireplace at the mawkish sentiment.

 

***

Ron groaned. There was something wrong but he couldn’t place what.

 

_I remember light… hmm… what…_

 

Then Ron felt a hand on his face and a soft thumb pad lifting up his eyelid and he blinked at the person looking down at him, whom he recognised as Bill.

 

“Hey!” Ron opened his mouth and spoke, but then the realised quite what was wrong –he couldn’t hear anything. Where his voice should have sounded there was only a fluffy emptiness.

 

His eyes must have flown wide in panic as Bill held up his hands in a placating gesture and helped him sit up, before pointing at the air above his bed. Ron watched as Bill’s wand looped through the air and then he realised what he was doing as words materialised and hung glittering.

 

_‘Welcome back hero. Don’t panic. Your hearing will come back. But your ears were badly damaged and they’ve put muffling spells on you so that they don’t work over time whilst they heal. You saved a hell of a lot of lives, Ron.’_

Ron frowned and spoke again, but it was evident that he wasn’t loud enough when Bill frowned and handed him a pencil and paper which was on the table next to his hospital bed.

 

‘ _What happened? How long have I been here? Is Harry alright?’_

The wand flashed again and Ron eagerly drank in the words.

 

_‘You attended the call for what the sensors thought was a magical device but turned out to be a muggle explosive. You shielded the explosion in on itself but didn’t get to contain the sound waves. You were standing right next to it. You’re lucky you’re not going to be permanently deaf. They’ve warned that their spells could wear off at any time and it will be painful, so just be prepared. It’s Sunday morning. Harry is fine, he managed to cast a shield over the area whilst you dealt with the bomb, and you were the only one that copped the sound.’_

Sunday. Ron repeated the word in his head and tried to think why it might be really bad if it _was_ in fact Sunday, like Bill had told him.

 

 _I had plans… someone was…_   He knew he suddenly spoke but couldn’t hear himself and he looked at Bill desperately. He grabbed the pad again and scribbled his need for his wand, there was someone he had to get a message to. His brother’s scarred face frowned and a large but gentle hand rested on his shoulder whilst the wand flicked again.

 

_‘Who do you need to contact? Everyone knows you were injured, Ron, how could they not? It’s been all over the Prophet. As I said, hero once more.’_

Ron felt ill, wondering how Severus would react to the fact that he had not turned up and not sent word about his absence. He felt horribly guilty and sad at the thought of upsetting the man, but he had no way of communicating his worry to anybody else without letting the secret out.

 

He scribbled again. _‘Please let me borrow your wand? And give me a few minutes alone?’_

_‘No, I’m going to get one of the nurses, you shouldn’t be this worked up. Your body has been through a lot. I’ll be right back, Ron.’_

“Nooooo!” Ron said the word and growled in frustration when he couldn’t hear himself speak, unable to judge the volume of his own voice. It felt like he was shouting but from the look that Bill was giving him his words were presumably coming out inaudible.

 

Bill left the room and Ron threw back the blankets on top of him, but as soon as he shifted something cleared in his right ear and even _he_ heard his howling scream. The pain shot straight through the centre of his brain, it felt like, and into his eyeballs and ached to the point of madness. Even though it hurt, however, he heard the first sounds after his scream begin to creep through the feeling of cotton wool. He coughed, which was a mistake, both of his ears spiked with pain and he groaned, which hurt more. But half of his hearing was seemingly back, despite how much it hurt.

 

Ron didn’t care that he’d been injured at work. He didn’t care that he was apparently a hero again. All he cared about was the fact that there was a very lonely, possessive man without him in Scotland who would be wondering just where the fuck his lover had gotten to.

 

_I need a wand. Fuck fuck fuck._

***

Severus was a ball of tense knots. His stomach was clenched with either fear or devastation, he couldn’t really distinguish between the two. The sun had risen on Sunday morning and he had been as alone on the bed as he had laid down on it. He refused to close his eyes in case he missed a Patronus. He had been awake every long hour of the night but his watch had been futile –nothing had come.

 

He hadn’t eaten, the thought of food made him feel sicker than he currently felt as he lay there.

 

_This is why you shied away from human contact. This is why you vowed to never get involved with anybody ever again, Severus. This is why you should have let yourself die eight years ago. This is not how normal people react…_

Severus swallowed and glared at the ceiling, like it was the fault of everything that had gone wrong with the weekend that he had so been looking forward to.

 

The weekend that he had thought, after the excited, happy message sent mid-week, Ron was looking forward to as well.

 

_Clearly I was wrong._

He had tried convincing himself that if Ron had not come to him, and had not sent word, then something must be extremely wrong. But that had only led to Severus removing a key from his desk drawer, looking at it, and then setting it down as though the silver were burning his skin.

 

/***/

 

_“What the fuck is that?” Severus’ voice was stark against the heat of the room._

_Ron looked down at what he was holding out to the man and said. “A key, duh.”_

_“A key to what?” Severus looked at him uneasily._

_Ron smiled then, and his face transformed out of the sweaty, lust-filled haze into bright happiness. “A key to my flat.”_

_Severus stared at him without saying a word._

_“I know it’s pretty useless, but I just thought… if you were ever down in the city and you wanted to get in but couldn’t get me a message…”_

_The smile faded from his face as Severus did not take the key from his hand._

_“I understand why,” Severus swallowed. “I just didn’t expect this.”_

_Ron sucked up his disappointment and got off the bed to place the key on the desk. “You never have to use it, Severus, not if you don’t want to. But that’s just…”_

_“I know.”_

/***/

 

The key had remained on the desk until Ron had left when Severus had put it in his desk drawer to avoid having to look at it. And there it had remained until he had desperately taken it out; convinced something was wrong with Ron at around three that morning. Now it was on the bedside table, a horrible silver stain on the shiny dark wood.

 

_What if I chase down there, which isn’t going to be easy considering the rail network is a joke on a Sunday, and he didn’t come because he doesn’t want me any more?_

That painful thought sent a stab into his chest and he absentmindedly raised his hand to rub across the pain, chewing into his bottom lip in a bad habit he had completely picked up from Ron.

 

_There isn’t much that could happen between Wednesday and now to make him not want me._

 

He tried to make the words firm but he only succeeded in making himself feel like an idiotic teenager lying on his bed pining for a love interest who had not owled when he said he would. With an angry shove off the mattress he got to his feet and looked down at the key. It gleamed in the weak sunlight peeping through the clouds outside.

 

_Still the slight problem of getting there, trains are out, driving would take hours and…_

 

Severus caught sight of his wand lying on the bedside table, next to the key.

 

_Don’t be absurd. You cannot apparate. Absolutely cannot._

He focussed on his magic and assessed the strength. He couldn’t deny that lately it had really begun to improve and he had felt safe doing more complex spells when Ron was around to correct them if they went wrong. And Severus had always been more than adept at apparition –he was the first in his school year to attempt and successfully manage and took his test before them all. He had no reason to believe he would have forgotten such skill. Indeed, everything else he had tried had flowed back down his arm like it had merely taken a much needed holiday.

 

_This is ridiculous, too many miles to cover and you do not know the apparition points along the way, you would have to chance and apparating blind is more foolish than trying it full stop._

He dropped his head back and sighed exasperatedly to the ceiling. His neck cracked as he did it, courtesy of the tension wracking his body with the worry about Ron and what had happened to him and the possibility of their affair coming to an end.

 

With that idea Severus’ stomach clenched again and he whirled around, looking at the mirror. All it would take would be some simple appearance alterations and he would be safely able to apparate in and out as he pleased. He hated doing it, but he had been forced to in the first months of living away from the magical community when he did not know how much about his life and appearance had been leaked to the muggle authorities, if he was considered alive and dangerous. He could easily slip back into such a persona.

 

_But I do not want to. And it would involve using that blasted key._

 

He turned back round to look at it and wondered how he, three years short of fifty, was so scared of one tiny little object.

 

_Most people deal with this in their twenties. You spent your twenties regretting your mistakes and being miserable. No wonder it seems somewhat odd now._

The Albus voice reared its ugly head and Severus let out a whine of desperation he was glad that Ron was not around to hear. Now _that_ voice was around, he knew his fight was completely lost. After all, it only ever appeared when he tried to talk himself out of something which would essentially be good for him, like when he had been trying to talk himself out of contacting Ron for the very first time.

 

“Bloody old bastard is still meddling in my life from beyond the grave,” Severus hissed, and snatched the key up.

 

***

Talking really hurt, Ron had ascertained that much. He had also ascertained that the medical staff of St. Mungo’s did not appreciate it when their patients tried to sneak off every five minutes to try and locate a wand to use. George had arrived and at once offered that Ron could use his wand, but then refused to leave the room when Ron wanted privacy to use it. They were conversing in notes and glittering messages because the pain in Ron’s head when anyone spoke in more than a whisper was agony. The Healers refused to give him painkillers until his second ear had recovered on the basis that it might cause more damage in numbing the area. Ron had nearly whimpered at that before he remembered he was twenty-seven and ruining his hard image with every single pained moan.

 

_Can’t fucking help it when it feels like someone is shoving a needle in there though… fuck. Ow. Oh, God, poor Severus._

He had tried so hard to get a wand that he found himself restrained in the bed, because he kept getting up and he was supposed to be horizontal. George had tried to convince the Healers that it was a deep seated emotional issue from the War and it would only distress Ron further to be confined to his bed, but to no avail.

 

_Gotta love George, he always was good at making up quick shit on the sly. Shame it didn’t work. What on earth am I going to do? I could be in here for fucking weeks._

‘ _Are you going to tell me who you’re busting your gut to contact?’_ George asked again. ’ _They’re not going to give you your wand, hospital policy that all patients have them removed on admittance to protect the staff…’_

 

Ron shook his head and winced at the pain.

 

‘ _Why not?’_ George frowned, and Ron felt bad that his brother actually looked upset that Ron wouldn’t trust him with the secret.

 

_‘Because I can’t tell anybody, please just drop it.’_

George fixed him with an assessing glare and wrote something with his wand.

 

_‘Does this have to do with where you keep disappearing to? Was someone waiting for you?’_

Ron gave a little nod and closed his eyes. George poked him in the ribs and he saw there was a second half of the message.

 

_‘Have you been seeing someone?’_

He opened his mouth to answer but then remembered he should write, and then the door opened and his Mum and Dad piled through the door, and he was wincing at their proclamations about the state of his health and how they were so happy he was going to be alright.

 

_Won’t be if you don’t stop screeching at me. And if someone doesn’t get me a fucking wand!_

***

Severus slid the key into the lock with a trembling hand, have cast a few sensory sweeps through the flat to check if there was human life inside it. He picked up two life forms and figured that they must have been the rats, but there was no thrum of a human heart in the rooms. When he pushed open the door he could smell in the air, ever quick to grow heavy due to the basement situation of the flat, that the flat had been empty for a few days. He closed it very quietly behind him as not to disturb anybody. His hand was still shaking.

 

The apparition had worked, but he could feel the way it had hurt his body. He didn’t need trembling hands to tell him that, or the light cough which appeared to have materialised out of nowhere on his chest. He looked at the fireplace and saw there was absolutely nothing there, though there were two rolled up copies of the Prophet on the rug in front of the hearth, another indicator that the flat had been unoccupied.

 

Unsure what made him move for them, he stepped up to the papers and picked them up, unfurling the one dated for Saturday. The headline was enough to send a wave of ice through his body whilst his heart did a ridiculous tattoo of jubilation that he had been right –Ron had simply been unable to reach him. But the ice won out when he read why.

 

‘ ** _Senior Auror Saves Countless Lives Foiling Muggle Explosion:_**

****

_Senior Auror and honoured Second War Veteran Ronald Weasley remains hospitalised and unconscious this morning after a spectacular display of bravery in the heart of Muggle London last night. Called to the scene with partner Harry Potter, Weasley singlehandedly contained the force of the blast in a well placed shield spell which saved the lives of countless Muggles in one of the busiest streets in the capital. Mr. Weasley himself was not as lucky –he is reported to have extensive auditory damage and remains a patient within St. Mungo’s where his family and friends are anxiously awaiting him to regain consciousness. The Obliviation Squad and Muggle Communications teams were effectively dispatched and the situation dealt with quickly whilst the details of the location were handed over to Muggle authorities. This comes as another blow to the Senior Auror only seven months after his break up with Hermione Granger...’_

 

“Fucking hell,” Severus swore and ripped open the other paper, hoping there would be some kind of status update but he found nothing on the front page and his hands began to shake too violently to look through the other pages.

 

He let them both fall onto the floor and then his eyes caught the rat cage, where both of the girls were plastered on the bars looking at him.

“I have no idea…” he looked at them as if they’d actually understand what he had been going to say. “He gave me a key, I didn’t break in.”

 

He looked back at the papers and found himself wishing that he had remained in Scotland. Because, now, faced with the truth of what had happened, and knowing that Ron was injured, the need to care and support was rising within him, but to do so he risked walking into one of the key Magical buildings in the city, and that was a far cry from the hidden life had lived for eight years.

 

_Nobody has to know. You just have to get him alone, check he’s alright or get a status update and then leave. Nothing has to happen._

He swallowed away the sick which rose in his throat at what he was about to do and then the Albus voice kicked in again.

 

_For God’s sake. This man has been risking his job and has been lying to his family for you for months –don’t you think it’s high time you repaid him the courtesy of trust and showing that you care?_

Severus wobbled slightly and slid the key to Ron’s flat inside his pocket once more, using his wand to lock the door as he stepped towards the fireplace. His hands were still shaking as he reached for the jar of Floo powder on the mantelpiece and his face was ashen when he looked in the mirror positioned over it, even with his disguise. He had left his eyes thinking that Ron would immediately recognise them, but if he was unconscious, and to all intents and purposes deaf…

 

That thought slammed into Severus like a sledgehammer –of all the things he might have said, but now might never be heard if the Prophet was to be believed on the extent of Ron’s injuries.

 

_You’re going to the hospital…_

 

Severus bitterly threw the powder into the grate and green flames flicked out of nowhere, despite the fact that there was no fire there to begin with. His teeth were clenched and he drew himself tightly together to experience the sensation of the Floo for the first time in years.

 

***

 _‘Looks like they’re talking about an Order of Merlin…’_ George winked at Ron as his wand stopped moving.

 

_‘Like I need another statue to collect dust on my mantelpiece!’_

_‘God, what happened to the Ron that wanted all the glory in the land?’_

_‘He’s sick of glory, he wants to be normal and be able to hear again… and to have his wand back!’_

The door opened again then and they were joined by the MediWitch holding a glass of disgusting smelling potion.

 

“Strengthening,” she explained in a quiet voice, not having the time to converse with Ron through the methods that George had. “I’ll need to do a physical in a minute, so…”

“I’ll come back in a bit when I’ve seen what the cafeteria has on offer,” George got to his feet and left with a wave.

 

Ron sunk back into his bed and groaned as he opened his mouth.

“You have a visitor,” the witch said quietly. “I’ll show him in. He asked to see you alone, but you are never alone in this hospital, remember the button…”

 

Ron drank the vile liquid and winced as his ears protested at the swallowing motion. He gave a nod, interested to see who the visitor was. _Maybe he’ll let me have his wand!_

The witch disappeared and the next person that walked through the door and closed it behind them was nobody Ron had ever seen before in his life. The tall, thin figure moved awkwardly and Ron heard a heavy stuttering cough and saw shaking hands. Hands he had last seen in an erotic fantasy two mornings ago, running over his body and fisting his cock.

 

He looked up with wild eyes straight into Severus’ and his mouth fell open.

 

“Severus?”

“Are you alright?” the voice was choked, seemingly with emotion and Ron couldn’t quite believe that Severus would be so concerned for him.

“Hearing’s fucked for a while, but I’ll heal,” Ron’s voice was a low croak and he saw the other man strain to hear him. “Severus, you’ve got to get out of here, my family are around and I’ve being going mental trying to get a wand to contact you but of course… I couldn’t tell anyone why. They think I’m barmy. They tied me down!” he waved his wrist which was attached to the metal railings which came down to his hips on the bed.

 

“They…” Severus stopped speaking and closed his eyes, fighting the waves of tiredness which rolled through his body, threatening to claim him.

“Severus?” Ron whispered, watching as dark eyes seemed to close in on themselves.

 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but Ron shot upright as Severus’ weight slumped to the floor with a loud thump and his head hit the bedside table on the way down. Horrified, Ron was out of the bed before he stopped to realise he had somehow manage to burst through the restraints. He was clad only in hospital regulation nightwear, as see-through as it was thin, but he didn’t give a damn as he threw himself on his knees and grabbed Severus in his arms.

 

His heart leapt into his mouth as he realised that with the man’s obvious black out the spells he had used to alter his appearance had worn off, and his dark hair and the usual nose were back; there would be no hiding quite _who_ was lying in his arms should anybody walk through the door at that moment.

 

Of course, the wood creaked inward and Ron cried out in protest, but the MediWitch shot into the room and with a stroke of luck the door flew shut behind her.

  
“Look,” Ron breathed. “This man is my… he means a lot to me. But he’s… oh, God, this has to stay quiet. Nobody can know he’s here.”

“He’s collapsed, I have to help him,” she shoved the bed to the side with surprising ease and joined Ron on his knees. “And you need to get back into bed, Mr. Weasley, you are not well.”

  
“Trust me,” Ron heaved Severus up a little. “I will be a lot less well than I am now if I cannot protect this man, do you understand me?”

 

The MediWitch looked at him with wide eyes.

  
“I am an Auror and I do have the authority to make this call,” Ron raised his voice and ignored the tears which sprung to his eyes at the pain of the increased volume rumbling up into his ears through his jaws.

“Help me get him on the bed,” she whispered and together they did so.

 

Freed but dizzy, Ron’s first thought was for the door, but because his luck was just that good, it opened again, and George blustered back inside. Ron watched as his eyes, a lighter blue than Ron’s own, widened seeing another figure in the bed, and then as his mouth fell open in shock as the reality sunk in.

 

“Shut the door,” Ron hissed and George jumped, looking sideways at him.

“Ron, what-” George stammered as he kicked the door shut with a bang.

“Listen to me,” Ron breathed, hearing an alarming beeping from behind him.

“That’s… that’s Snape… but Snape’s dead…” George’s voice was heightening with fear and Ron did the only thing he could think of to shut him up, which was to shove him into the closed door and clamp his hand over George’s mouth.

 

“George,” his voice was a desperate choke. “If the last eight years of my help and care for you have meant anything, you’re going to keep your voice down and you’re going to do everything I ask of you, okay?”

 

Azure eyes slide sideways and took in Ron’s face, then back to the prone figure on the bed. Lips mumbled against the palm of Ron’s hand but he did not remove it and effectively kept George silent.

 

“Mr. Weasley, this man is… he is extremely ill. If you knew of his medical condition why did you not have him admitted to hospital sooner?”

“He’s been in hiding,” Ron growled, whirling away from George who remained flattened against the door. “He doesn’t participate in our society; he’s been out for eight years.”

“I need to administer potions, and perform a full body scan. He’s just blacked out but there’s something deeper I can’t diagnose without the tests.”

 

Ron moved to the side of the bed and reached for Severus’ hair, brushing it lightly off his face and he heard a confused choke from George behind him. He curled his fingers around the neck of the shirt Severus was wearing and lifted it away to show the witch the healed puncture marks left from Nagini’s bite.

 

“He suffered this years ago during the Battle of Hogwarts and managed to survive, healed himself and disappeared into the muggle world. He isn’t well; he has all sorts of throwbacks from the time he was without oxygen and the venom. I don’t know half of the stuff which makes him ill but I definitely know he’s allergic to any of the potions which have strong doses of vitamins in them. And lavender –the scent and essence lays him out for hours.” _I learnt that the hard way, stupid bottle of massage oil…_

“The venom affected his body’s ability to absorb the vitamins?” The witch asked Ron, keeping her fingers over Severus’ wrist, feeling his pulse.

“I guess so. He has really bad headaches if he does too much or moves too fast and he…”

 

Ron broke off, looking down at the slack face. “And he’s probably caused this by apparating down here… because of me. His magic isn’t what it used to be, though it was getting better recently.”

  
“Because of you?” George’s voice rang out in repetition and Ron winced in pain.

“Stay against the door and don’t let anybody through it,” Ron called to him.

“Tell me what the hell’s going on,” George demanded. “He died, you were there, and you all told us what you’d seen. How the hell is alive and why the _fuck_ are you caressing his forehead?”

 

Ron looked determinedly down at Severus and kept on stroking the silky hair whilst the witch ran more tests over his body.

 

“Ron, please tell me the truth,” George’s voice was softer then, lightly pleading.

“George I…”

“I already know now, I’m not blind,” George bartered. “He’s where you’ve been disappearing to, isn’t he?”  
“Since Christmas,” Ron swallowed hard and hoped to God that Severus could not hear him spilling away all of his well kept secrets. “Found him by accident… just after she left… and he… we… it’s complicated.”

“Like I don’t know anything about complicated,” George sighed. “Ron, you can’t… look. All I’m saying is there are six reporters waiting in the next corridor waiting for news on you. He can’t leave this room if, for whatever reason, you want his identity protected. You need to-”

“He will kill me,” Ron breathed. “He’ll rip my guts out and everything we’ve… what we have…”

 

“No, it doesn’t have to be that way,” George protested. “Not if you tell the right people.”

 

Ron whirled round and looked at him then. “The…”

“Here’s my wand,” George said immediately. “Patronus Harry.”

“And Kingsley…” Ron muttered, sapphire eyes looking dazedly around the room –he was still so very dizzy.

“Get a move on,” the witch begged, and then waved her wand once more.

 

Ron turned and watched as the same sort of fuzz which appeared when scanning for broken bones appeared over Severus’ body. It swept over him and Ron looked on with horror as the haze glowed a murky yellow and bled to red in certain places, and a large patch over his head, neck and upper torso was completely black with red tinges at the edge.

 

“Sweet Galahad’s balls,” the witch gasped. “I can’t deal with this, I need a supervisor.”

“What does it mean?” George asked, his mouth agape.

“It means this man shouldn’t even be alive!” the witch cried.

“Explain,” Ron rasped, this throat suddenly thick with fear.

“The yellow parts indicate parts of the body which are damaged. The red severely damaged. And the black… that is an actual hole right through his aura.”

“His…”

“Jesus,” George breathed behind them.

 

“The whole thing is his aura… the essential make up entwined with his soul,” the witch looked awed. “And he is in awful shape for the most part but the hole is something else. How has he…? I don’t understand how he even functions.”

“You don’t know him,” Ron said simply, and picked up one of Severus’ hands.

“And you do?” George challenged.

“I know him,” Ron nodded but did not look round.

 

“Are you… _with_ him?”

“Later,” Ron frowned, trying to think of exactly how he was going to talk his way around his boss and his best friend, both of whom would have dearly liked to have accumulated the knowledge that Severus Snape had been found alive if not entirely well a little earlier than seeing the man out cold on a hospital bed.

 

“George, can they revoke the things they exonerated him for?” Ron whispered.

“Not unless they have evidential proof to do so, no.”

“So if I ask Kings and Harry to help us, they…”

“I doubt they’ll refuse, Ron. You need to help him now and protect him and their help is probably the best way...”

“I can’t believe he came here for me… he… OH!” his loud cry made his head ring like a bell.

“What?” George asked.

“He must have used the key,” the realisation washed over Ron that Severus would have looked for him at the flat first.

“Key? What key?”

“The key I gave him to the flat.”

  
“Whoa, you gave him a key to your… fuck, Ron.”

“I know,” Ron groaned and then hissed at the pain in his ears.

 

“Look at that,” the witch suddenly said, her eyes trained on the black haze which hovered over Severus’ face. “Speak, Mr. Weasley.”

“What, why?” Ron frowned.

“The black patch sort of… undulates when you speak. Talk to him.”

“Severus?” Ron moved closer. “It’s me, Ron… can you hear me at all?”

“It gets smaller,” she breathed. “Keep talking.”

“Severus, I need you to wake up… I know this is bad but we can get through this together, I’m going to protect you. I know you want to hide but I don’t think it’s an option now.”

 

Ron watched with wide eyes as the black haze contracted considerably leave red in its wake, and then when he stopped talking it grew to size again.

 

“Is that normal?” Ron looked up at the witch.

“Nothing about this man is normal,” her voice was shaky. “Seriously, please contact who you need to contact. This man needs serious medical attention which I am not qualified to give. I don’t want his death on my hands.”  
“Is he going to die?” Ron’s voice was an embarrassing squeak.

“I don’t think so, but I don’t want to take chances…”

 

Ron turned away and focussed on his happy memory. Severus needn’t know that the memory was of him in the recent days, rather than Hermione. Nobody need know that.

 

_I’d forgotten about her… shit…_

 

***

Severus felt as though he were beneath a very thick blanket which covered his entire body. He could not move or speak, only think, and his eyes refused to open. He could most definitely hear. He heard Ron’s voice as though it was a crystal clear stream of water pouring into a dehydrated mind, and he took comfort from it, more than he probably should have. He could feel warmth on his hand and occasionally on his face, but whatever oppressed him would not let him respond to those touches like he so wanted to.

 

He was afraid of the words being spoken; he understood everything –from Ron whispering that he didn’t feel they had any choice, to the female he didn’t know talking about his aura.

 

_And that’s why I stayed away from this place. She sounds so shocked but I knew I was in that state. I should have told him…_

 

Lying there, trapped, he realised there were probably a lot of things he should have told the man fighting at his bedside.

 

***

Ron was battling hard to control his breathing. At any moment Kingsley or Harry would burst through the door and he would have to launch into the explanation of his life. Explanations about the work file he’d lied about, about the time he’d been away, the relationship between him and Severus…

 

_All that time we talked about anybody finding out and I never actually thought about what I’d say if someone did… no wonder he was so bloody adamant nobody ever would. Christ. He’s going to hate me._

He sat up by the top of the bed, his thin waist curved into the pillow so he could cradle Severus’ head, ignoring the pain and disorientation in his own. The man had showed no signs of waking up and Ron wasn’t surprised. He had nursed him through enough splitting headaches to know he never bounced back quickly and along with his worry at having to explain his actions, Ron was fighting off intense fear of what would happen to Severus health-wise.

 

 _My Severus_. _God, that sounds stupid, like that Gollum thing with his ring in that stupidly long film Harry made me watch._

 

George was sat in the chair next to the bed, shooting furtive glances between Ron and the dark-haired man on the bed, one hand absentmindedly rubbing over the cursed dark hole in the side of his head.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered again. “And you didn’t tell anyone…”  
“He wanted it to be kept quiet,” Ron breathed. “I couldn’t… I didn’t know if he’d ever contact me after the first time and if he wasn’t going to I didn’t see why he couldn’t live the quiet life he wanted. He was content out of our world… and then he did contact me and it…”

“Became more about trust between two partners, I get it,” George said, looking at the floor. “But what about the trust between us, Ron? You couldn’t have told me? Or Harry.”

 

“George… I… it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” Ron looked down at Severus as he spoke. “Don’t take it that way. Can you just take it that I had found someone who was helping me heal and he needed me to keep his secret?”

 

George didn’t answer and Ron sighed.

 

“And what now, then, hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Ron said helplessly. “I have no idea what to do. He’s very ill and he has been for years but somehow he’s managed. I can’t imagine he’s going to wake up and be happy he’s here. He never wanted to come back… and I was his only link… I fucked it up for him…”

“None of that,” George snapped. “As fucked up as this is, he came after _you_.”

“Only because I didn’t turn up there,” Ron muttered miserably. “I was meant to be up there with him on Saturday…”

“And then you got knocked out.”

“Yeah.”

“So he came looking for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Funny, the Snape we knew didn’t seem the type to go looking. More like the type to assume you’d dumped him.”

“The Snape we knew is very different to the one I know.”

“He must be.”

“What?” Ron’s head snapped up.

 

“Well, don’t get me wrong, but up until last November you seemed overwhelmingly straight. And now you’re taking it up the arse?”

 

 _Trust you to put it bluntly._ Ron swallowed and finally looked up at his brother.  
  
“Problem with that?”

“’Course not, you twunt.”

“Problem with him?”

“Maybe,” George shrugged. “I can’t get my head around it… this is…it’s going to blow Harry apart, Ron.”

“I know,” Ron breathed, closed his eyes and leant down to press a kiss to Severus’ forehead, for a second forgetting he was in front of his brother.

 

“Weird,” George made a face. “But you know what?”

“What?” Ron looked at the long dark eyelashes brushing across Severus’ pale cheeks.

“You _never_ looked at her like that.”

 

Ron tilted his head to the side and didn’t realise the slight smile he had on his lips until George laughed at him.

 

“Merlin, you’re… Gods, Ron. I thought you’d been shagging someone but I didn’t know who… I just hoped you were being safe and not getting into anything dangerous… but the look on your _face_ …”

 

A knock on the door made them both jump and Ron shivered involuntarily when he heard Harry’s voice on the other side. George got to his feet and made to open the door.

 

“George, wait,” Ron burst out. “It should be me first.”

 

He got to his feet with his head thumping and his one good ear thrumming with continual pain whilst the other spiked randomly.

 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Help._


	9. Chapter 9

“What the fuck is _she_ doing here?!” Harry’s gasp heralded Hermione’s arrival and he blinked at Ron like he’d gone mad.

 

_Maybe I have. Bitch. Wish I was dressed properly._

Harry was glaring between them waiting for an explanation for everything. Ron was leaning back on the closed door to his room with his arms folded, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing in the hospital corridor with nothing but extremely thin cotton separating his modesty from the reporters in the next hallway.

 

“She’s here because I called her here,” Ron said quietly, wincing as the speech made his ears ache.

 

He had decided to wait until all of his Patronuses had been answered before explaining. Not only did it give him more time to think, it meant he would only have to get the first push over with once.

 

“Why?” Harry’s face was incredulous. “You should be lying down, you don’t look well and you certainly shouldn’t be confronted with _her_.”

“I don’t have a name any more, then?” Hermione looked at him contemptuously.

“I called _Hermione_ here,” Ron said with emphasis, determined to be polite, “Because she was… well. She deserves to know what’s going on. _I’m_ not cruel enough to let her read it in the morning papers.”

 

_Ah, shit. Well. It was good whilst the politeness lasted._

“Weasley, you called?” Kingsley’s voice rang out as he strode towards them. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!”

“I know,” Ron sighed. “Look. I have some news. Can one of you cast a silencing charm please?” Harry complied.  
“News?” Hermione asked, moving to stand next to Harry so the three of them faced Ron –it felt somewhat like a firing squad.

 

“I…” Ron faltered. He thought about just opening the door and showing them but he owed Harry, at least, much more than that. “Kingsley. On Christmas Eve you sent me up to the middle of nowhere to investigate magic being picked up by the sensors, d’you remember?”

“Yes, you filed the report and said it was malfunctioning.”

 

 _Man’s got a memory like a bloody elephant. He couldn’t have forgotten._ “Yeah.”

 

“So?” Harry shrugged.

“My report wasn’t entirely truthful.”

 

Three blank stares. _Oh for fuck’s sake Ron, suck it up and grow some balls._

“The truth is I found the source of the unexplained magic,” Ron avoided looking any of them in the eyes. “And it was a massive fucking shock, because I thought he was dead. We watched him ‘die’.”

“Who?” Kingsley asked with interest.

Dragging his eyes up to make contact with Harry’s, he shot a distinct look of pleading to his best friend. “Severus Snape.”

 

There was a silence which was beautiful to his aching ears but terrifying to the rest of him. And then Harry’s hand shot out and lay across his forehead, obviously checking his temperature.

 

“I’m not going mad,” Ron made a face and batted it away. “There’s… well. I uh… this isn’t easy to explain, alright?”

“You should be in bed,” Kingsley looked at him clearly thinking along the same lines as Harry.

“I know I should,” Ron growled, and his point was proved as his left ear finally joined in the party and shot a hideous ripping pain through his head. It was lucky he was leaning against the door for support. “Spells have worn off,” he hissed, his eyes leaking with the pain.

“You need to be in bed,” Harry reached for the doorknob behind him.

“No!” Ron cried, throwing his arm out and blocking the way. “He didn’t die in the Shack. He woke up, healed himself with antidotes he carried and ran. I met him on Christmas Eve and ever since I’ve been travelling back and forth between Scotland and here… we’re… together.”

 

If his visitors looked surprised before now they were borderline steamrollered, and Ron wasn’t surprised –it _did_ sound rather whimsical when put like that.

  
“Ron, I think we need to get you a little trip to the therapy wards,” Harry whispered softly, worry blossoming over his face.

“For the last time, _I’m not mad_. And if you don’t believe me… he’s in there.” Ron jerked his head back. “He… well. I was due to visit on Saturday and when I didn’t turn up the silly fucking bastard came looking for me…” He swallowed. “He’s hurt, badly hurt, and he has been for years. But he’s been living as a muggle, not really using magic until I… until I came along… he apparated down here for me, and he’s… you wait until you see the Aura Scan. It’s…”

 

Ron broke off and looked down at the floor.

 

“Are you _seriously_ telling me that Severus Snape is behind that door?” Harry asked him, his face paling to an unhealthy white.

“Unconscious, but behind the door,” Ron sighed.

“And you didn’t think telling any of us would be a fucking good idea before now?!”

 

Harry’s voice escalated and Ron winced at both the pain and the anger in the man’s tone. “Harry, I couldn’t. He’s been living hidden for years, it was what he wanted –he didn’t want to come back and it’s only because of me he’s in this mess.”

 

“When you say… _with_ him,” Hermione ventured her first words. “Do you mean…”

“In a relationship with him, yes,” Ron raised his jaw and looked her square in the eye. “I don’t know how it happened, I don’t know why, other than he… well. He’s sorted through the bloody mess you left behind and helped me become a person again.”

 

“I’m not believing anything until I see it,” Kingsley was looking at Ron strangely. “Do you know how many codes of the conduct you’ve breached?”

“I know,” Ron shrugged. “Sacked, right? Don’t care, Kings.”

 

He turned then and looked over his shoulder. “Anybody who’s going to throw hexes about can fuck off now, understand?”

 

His coarse vocabulary was aided by the relief tugging at his body –without it he wouldn’t have been swearing in front of his boss. No matter what the outcome was, he had told them now. And whilst he felt utterly wretched at spilling the well kept secret, he couldn’t help how the weight lifted from his chest. He entered the room, saw George still sitting by the bed, and then resumed his position at the head, not bothering to wait and see who followed him in.

  
“Oh…” Harry’s breaths rose to hyperventilation and he choked slightly. “I can’t… he…”

 

There was a slight bang as Harry connected to the doorframe on the way out and the door slammed hard behind him.

“Fuck’s sake can people stop hitting things,” Ron groaned as his head ached. “My other ear went,” he added conversationally for George, trying his hardest to hold it together even though Harry had bolted. “Any change?”

“No,” his brother answered quietly, though his eyes were fixed on Hermione with dislike. “Why is she here, Ron?”

 

Ron swallowed and looked down at the man’s head that he cradled in his arm. “No matter what she’s done recently, at the time we were all in it together. She deserved to know. And if our relationship was going to get out… I thought it would be kinder to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Why?” George cried. “She didn’t show you the same courtesy.”

“I didn’t have to tell him anything!” Hermione frowned. “We split up, that doesn’t mean my business is his.”  
“It was his business you were cheating on him for a fucking year,” George flew to his feet heatedly, his chair scraping back over the floor and damaging Ron’s hearing again. “How dare you stand there and tell me that what you did was none of his business?”

“Typical,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “And I thought Fred was the mindless one of you two.”

 

There was a tremulous moment as George absorbed her words and Ron’s head snapped up, wondering what his brother would do. He braced himself for the ear-shattering crash that came from the door when George stormed out and immediately pitied the loss of the one person who knew everything and had become somewhat rationalised by that point.

 

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron hissed. “Thanks a lot.”

 

“Can we get past the love life trauma for a minute?” Kingsley barked, and Ron recognised the forbidding tone which had the staff of the Auror HQ scurrying for cover when it rang through the corridors. “So, he’s alive.”

 

Ron looked up and saw large hands smoothing over the metal frame at the end of the bed. “Yes. Though, with how badly he’s injured himself…”

“And doing illegal magic since the Battle?”

“Not much, tiny things, and he’s been hiding everything from the Muggles. Kings, look… he doesn’t want to come back to our society. He just wants to live quietly.”

“And you called me because?”

“You’re… my…” Ron didn’t know how to finish. Friend? Boss? War Veteran just like him? “I thought if anyone could help us, it would be you. You and Harry.”

 

“So is he… does he know everything?” Hermione piped up again.

“He knows some, but he’s adamant he doesn’t want to hear what he didn’t know about at the time... He asked after us, our lives… and asked about some of the people who died.”

“He doesn’t want to know?” Kingsley’s voice was softer then in its astonishment.

Ron shook his head. “And he didn’t want to come back here, he’s… well. If you heard him talk about Harry you’d know that aspect of him hasn’t really changed at all. I think to be honest…” Ron turned and stroked the dark hair. “I think to be honest, if he had died, he would have been happier.”

 

“Still tragic then?” Harry breathed and everyone awake jumped, looking round at him.

“Still tragic,” Ron smiled without humour, stomach flipping that Harry had returned.

“I’m sorry I… George is outside…”

 

Ron looked up at Harry and saw red eyes and an obviously scrubbed face. He walked around the side of the bed and looked down into the slack expression.

“He looks… well. Older.”

“He is older, forty-seven.”

“And you’ve been…” Harry’s eyes lingered over Ron’s hand which was still sunk into Severus’ hair, and then sniffed the air. He met Ron’s eyes with a flicker of recognition at the jasmine.

“Yeah… I was… well. What I hinted at during dinner on Friday…”

“Understood,” Harry exhaled, looking down at the man who had saved his life over and over again and loved his mother to, what they had thought, had been his grave. “But how does he… I thought he loved…”

“I think he still does,” Ron chewed on his lip. “But then I showed up and I… may have accidentally kissed him and it all went from there.”

“But I remember, and I quote, you saying that he ‘had a face only a mother could love’?” Harry frowned.

 

Ron flushed an ugly red and hissed, “Well, everyone says unfair things when they’re fifteen, Harry.”

 

Out of nowhere a deep cough sounded and Ron jumped slightly when there was movement in his arms. There was more coughing and wheezing, a crumpled face and deep swallowing, and then Ron found himself looking into onyx eyes.

“Typical,” he breathed. “You wake up just as he lets that out.”

“It was the truth,” there was a brittle wheeze left of Severus’ voice and Ron hated it.

 

“Do you remember where you are?” Ron tried to break him in easily.

“Hospital. I heard e-everything,” Severus closed his eyes again.

“I’m so sorry, Severus,” Ron mumbled.

 

Severus did not answer him and chose to keep his eyes shut, childishly playing along with the idea that if he did not look at the people from the past in the room then they would not exist.

 

“Did you hear about the Aura Scan?”

“Yes. But I… knew…”

 

Ron stared down at him with blazing eyes.

 

_He fucking knew and he couldn’t have told me quite how badly he was ripped up? Fucking hell._

“Should have said,” Severus’ vocabulary was broken and short.

“Just… stay quiet,” Ron sighed, and lowered his lips to place a gentle kiss on Severus’ forehead, once more forgetting quite who he was in front of.

“Who is here?”

“Erm,” Ron shot a nervous look around the room. “Harry, Kingsley and Hermione.”

 

Severus coughed somewhat violently in his haste to question. “Why her?” He didn’t think he could quite stand it if he had blown everything –his health, his cover and probably his sanity just to find that Hermione had crawled back to Ron’s bedside and been accepted.

 

“Because I was doing that ‘being the bigger person’ thing that we talked about,” Ron looked down at him and was pleased to see a little colour creeping back into the cheeks, or as much colour as Severus Snape could get, being pale and slightly sallow on a good day.

“Idiot,” the choked rebuke came out and Harry snorted in agreement.

“Christ, you just agreed on something,” Ron was suddenly struck with the absurdity of their situation and his hands gave a wobble.

 

“Alright?” Harry frowned at him.

“Yeah,” Ron swallowed.

“You should be in bed,” Severus said slowly, and opened his eyes looking at Ron and only Ron.

“Probably. But you had to go and get all dramatic didn’t you?”

“Learnt it from you.”

 

“This is weird,” Harry breathed, raking a hand through his hair.

“What do you want?” Kingsley asked Ron.

“What Severus wants,” Ron looked up at him. “For him to live quietly and out of the limelight.”  
“But you’re you,” Hermione said. “You are in the limelight whether you like it or not.”

“Which is why I have been travelling to Scotland every week for half the year,” Ron pointed out. “And I would have carried on doing it.”

 

“He’s not going to be well enough to travel,” the MediWitch slid inside the room. “I’ve got the readings all marked down and this man shouldn’t be leaving the hospital for a good few months.”

“I’m not staying here,” Severus felt the need to protest even though the lethargy held his body down and made his words slurred. “Ron, can you…”

“See what I mean?” Ron gestured to him. “He didn’t want to come back. And here in the hospital… you know what it’s like…”

“But he’s in no fit state to discharge himself and I refuse to let someone this damaged leave.”

 

“How damaged are we talking?” Kingsley turned on his business voice.

“Move away from the bed,” the witch instructed and Ron hopped off to stand by the wall, bringing his hands up to gingerly touch his ears. The pain had abated a little.

 

He watched as once again the witch cast the Aura Scan and then had a fun moment looking at the shock blossom each of the faces around the bed.

 

“The black patch undulates when Mr. Weasley speaks to him,” the witch waved him forward to try and demonstrate.

“You had to go and get all freaky on me, didn’t you?” Ron sighed. “You couldn’t have just told me about this?”

“What does it mean that it changes?” Harry asked worriedly as the spell was cleared and the coloured haze faded to nothing.

“I… well. The aura is a complicated thing to explain, and even more so to heal. It is very like your soul, but with the crucial difference that it can be continually damaged by outside influences.”  
“But other people can harm your soul,” Kingsley pointed out.  
“Yes, but… look at it this way. You hit your fist against a wall, it will hurt, yes? You do it again, it hurts more, because you’re already injured. A third time, maybe you bruise. The forth, maybe you break the skin. If you keep going and going, you’re going to wear away at the bone structure. An Aura is no different. If I were to cast the spell on Mr. Weasley, he would show prominent redness by his ears as they are damaged, and yellow on his wrist which he broke when he fell over. It would return to green in a few days.”  


“Nobody tells me anything!” Ron exclaimed, trying to figure out which wrist.

“But the black patch was once red, but was left too long to be healed, or it was healed and the damaging action kept happening.”  
“And the damage can be physical or emotional?” Hermione asked.

“Even worse, it can be both. But I would say Mr. Weasley, for whatever reason, makes the hole attempt to heal. I would hazard a very tentative guess that with continual presence it would heal completely. Whilst auras can be damaged by outside influences, they can also be healed by them –which is not so simple for the soul.”

 

Harry looked at Ron uneasily, then down at Severus who had closed his eyes again on the bed, letting them talk over his head as though he were not there.

 

_Probably wishes that he wasn’t at all._

 

“Why did you come after me?” Ron breathed. “I would have come as soon as I could.”

“Thought you had left me.”

 

The raspiness in Severus’ tone made the words much more blunt than he had intended, he had meant it to come out softly and emotionally, but he knew that the words would have done nothing to endear the figures from the past lurking by his bedside to his personality.

 

But then Severus had never quite understood what he had done to endear Ron to his personality, either. He coughed and his body shook painfully. Severus accepted that he was very ill and had done extreme damage forcing himself to apparate. But that did not mean he was willing to stay put.

 

“I want out of here,” he said as loudly as he could.  
“Not possible,” the MediWitch ruled.

“But doesn’t… when this stuff happens…” Harry said tentatively. “I remember when I was in here for... well.”  
“He knows,” Ron blushed and looked guiltily away.

“Oh, well. When I was in here because I went a bit mad,” Harry continued. “When your Aura is affected you have to be somewhere you feel comfortable for it to heal. If Prof- oh. Um. Snape?” Harry stumbled over his indecision of what to call him. “If he doesn’t want to be here, he’ll never heal.”

 

“Well I’m not releasing him to Scotland,” Kingsley said flatly. “The man needs rest and medical care, which the muggles won’t give him.”

 

Ron looked up at him and could literally see the cogs turning in the man’s clever head. He could see sparks in his eyes seeing that they finally had a missing link to all the Death Eater practices they had never been able to fully uncover and the final movements of Voldemort.

 

“Kings, he’s not here for that,” Ron warned. “And I won’t let you abuse him for your information.”

“What kind of monster do you have me down as?” Kingsley asked him angrily. “He was absolved of all his crimes and I don’t intend on throwing them back up. On account of the history I’m even going to overlook the blatant violation of the laws he must have committed if he’s been living unregistered. And I’m willing to overlook them for you too. But I’m not willing to let him just disappear –we owe him more than that.”

 

“I want him safe,” Ron repeated. “And my job will be no kind of bargaining tool for you to get what you want out of him.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Hermione asked with a sick kind of fascination in her voice.

“I am not discussing my feelings about him with _you,_ ” Ron heard the first real strains of contempt in his voice.

“Good for you,” Severus wheezed with a slight attempt at a smile.

“You can go now,” Ron said to Hermione. “I just wanted this all explained so that it was fair. You have every right to know but this won’t change anything between us.”  
“Or us,” Harry turned to her, eyes stony.

 

“Please can’t we just be friends again?” Even Hermione seemed to realise her words sounded incredibly juvenile.

 

“Maybe if you wanted to be friends you should have told him a little earlier than three hours before the wedding,” the effort of getting the sentence out made Severus’ breath catch hard in his throat and he coughed. Ron wondered how long it would be before he brought up blood with the effort.

 

“Severus, as much as I really love that you’re sticking up for me,” Ron bit down a grin, “Save your breath. I think it’ll do much better in your lungs than spouting off at Hermione.”

 

Ron was still looking down at him when he heard the door close.

“Why did you call her, Ron?” Harry sighed.

“Because… she deserved to know, like I’ve said.”  
“She deserved nothing but a slap,” Harry snorted. “And what if she…”  
“Runs to the papers? She won’t,” Ron shook his head. “Not whilst she knows I remember all _her_ little secrets.” _Like all the spells she uses without permission…_

 

“So what are we going to do with him?” Kingsley asked. “I understand his reluctance…”

“He has a name, and he is here…” Severus was getting angry at his lack of breath and the way everyone was speaking over him.

“Sorry, forgive me,” Ron was surprised to see his boss actually redden and look down at the floor. “Severus, we are indebted… and I know what we…”

“Not the time,” Ron ruled loudly. “If Severus wants to… well. Later if at all, right?”

“Got it,” Kingsley swallowed and Ron was shocked he’d won so easily. “So.”  
“If you were willing to house him safely,” the witch spoke up, “The Hospital is perfectly capable of treating him. Just needs to be connected to the Floo and have permission to enter at pre-determined times.”

 

“Well, that’s sorted then,” Ron looked up. “He can come and live with me.”

“You are not well yourself,” the witch looked at him blankly.

“I’ll heal though, and I… I don’t want him with anyone else; I don’t trust anybody else to look after him.”

“Not even me? I have a huge house?” Harry pointed out.

“Um, Harry, in case you haven’t forgotten… this is him we’re talking about,” Ron grimaced and nodded down at the prone figure between them. “The man needs to heal and you’re…”

“Oh,” Harry flushed, and looked down at the floor.

 

“And there is the matter of payment for treatment,” the witch reminded them. “I am assuming he has no healthcare scheme?”

 

What might have been a bitter laugh rumbled out of Severus’ throat but it only made him choke again. Ron threw him a disparaging look and then said, “No, but I can pay.”

“This is why I did not bother to come here.”  
“Well you were stupid, weren’t you?” Ron growled at him.

 

“I would rather he were placed with someone whole and healthy,” Kingsley commented. “But,” he raised a hand when Ron opened his mouth to protest. “If Severus consents to staying with you I don’t see how we can really act to change his mind. It _is_ his life, after all.”

 

“Severus?” Ron was afraid of the answer, he wasn’t going to lie. This was a man who had been alone for years, lived a very simple life since his departure from the wizarding world and was now faced with months of intensive healing treatment and moving in with his twenty-years-younger lover. “Choose what you need, Severus.”

“You.”

 

Ron caught sight of Harry’s face –he looked as though he might well have been pushed over with a feather if anyone had had the inclination to try.

 

***

“This is unbelievable!”

“I know, Harry,” Ron sighed.

“But he… he died…”

“Well, no, he didn’t, that’s the point.”

 

It was roughly the tenth time that they had had the conversation in quick succession.

 

“And now you’re… with him… and you’re…”

“Fucking?” George threw in helpfully with a tiny grin.

“I need a drink,” Harry breathed, slumping back in his chair.

 

They were waiting in the hospital dispensary for the necessary medication that Ron was being released with. It had taken a real fight to get him out of the room to go; he had not wanted to leave Severus. But the Healers (sworn to secrecy by Kingsley, who had so much power it was almost frightening) were running more tests and wanted to ask questions which Severus had clearly wanted privacy to answer. Ron didn’t know whether it was his presence causing the difficulty or the entourage, he had left reluctantly, anyhow, under the premise of getting his medication and sending a note to Helen on Severus’ request.

 

_I really thought that old bint of a ward sister was going to insist on keeping me in here… thank fuck she didn’t._

His ears were painful, still, and especially sensitive to loud noises. He would be subject to the same home visits as Severus.

 

_I dread to think what he’s going to say to me when he comes out of the funk and finds himself in my flat and known to my entire family, the head of the Auror Squad and Harry._

“Here you are!” There was a loud voice and Ron groaned as Charlie and Bill rounded the corner into the waiting area. “What the fuck’s going on? Kingsley’s barking orders, there’s a dead man alive in Ron’s room and Harry looks like he’s going to throw up in that fake Yucca Plant.”

 

“Can someone else do it?” Ron pleaded. “I’m all explanation-ed out.”

 

He leant forward and covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes, sighing at the relative quiet and the peace which the darkness afforded him. He felt quite sure it was the last he was going to be receiving for a while. Not only was he now faced with admitting his sexuality to his parents – _oh yeah, that’s always going to be a fun conversation-_ he also had to explain the live-in invalid.

 

_Talk about jumping out of the frying pan into the fucking fire._

There was a gentle nudge on his shoulder and he looked sideways and saw a pair of knees. He sat up and looked at Charlie who gave him a surprised grin.

“Always have to go one better, eh?” he winked.

“Shut up,” Ron sighed.

“You’re much better at keeping a secret than I ever thought you were,” Bill commented. “Not like when you were little and everything would tumble out of your gob the second you shut it.”

“Well, maybe if I hadn’t had five big brothers doing mean things to me I would never have needed to snitch.”

 

“Man’s got a point,” Charlie said fairly.

“Is it true you called Hermione, Ron?”

“Yeah,” he replied despondently.

“That took balls,” Bill praised him. “Noble of you to include her.”

“Stupid,” Harry muttered, rejoining the conversation.

“Well, you’re the king of being both noble _and_ stupid,” Ron reminded him.

“This is true,” Harry stared with glazed eyes at the wall opposite. “So what do you… what do you even talk about Ron? I’m having a bit of a brain failure here on the whole relationship part of this.”

“He’s a person,” Ron shrugged. “He doesn’t say a lot, not the type to sit and inanely gab on,” he pointed sneakily at Charlie and Bill snorted, “But he’s good company. Especially when he’s pissed off at someone. He’s quite… witty.”

 

“Can I shout at him when he’s healthy for the ear?” George asked with a smile.

“He’ll probably apologise before you can do that.”

“It seems wrong to imagine Snape apologising,” George kicked his legs out and crossed his feet at the ankles, staring off at the ceiling. “Fred’d be having a bloody field day with this.”

“Can you imagine?” Bill muttered, looking at the floor. “Be all hell to pay.”

“Aye, probably best that he’s gone,” George commented sadly but shot Ron a warm smile. “Can’t believe you gave us all the slip for nearly six months, though.”

 

“So, when you disappeared when you got signed off work…” Charlie started.

“I spent three weeks in Scotland drinking his whiskey, eating good cheese and…”

“We don’t need to know the last part,” Harry elbowed him in the ribs. “But right, Ron… do you… once he’s healed, do you think he’s going to stick around or go back?”

“Depends… if he likes living with me or not.”

“Hell, he’ll have gone before the month’s out,” George smirked.  
“Well you never complained.”

“Snape does know that you have a shadow, right?” Charlie asked. “Ron with added George is something we’ve all had to get used to…”

 

“He knows,” Ron shrugged. “A couple of weekends ago when you messaged me I was with him.”  
“You came all the way back from Scotland?” George’s voice took on an awed tone.

“Yeah, brotherly love and all that bollocks,” Ron rolled his eyes at him.

“Fuck.”

 

“Awh, you made him cry,” Bill said with brotherly condescending tones.

“I’m fine,” George growled. “Just now I have to find someone else’s sofa to sleep on so you three had better just watch out,” he looked around at his brothers and Harry.

“My sofa not good enough for you any more? Considering that you’re my ‘need to bury a dead body’ brother?” Ron swallowed dryly, ears aching.

“Your sofa will always be my preferred of choice, and I’ll still help you bury anyone you’ve offed if you need me” George winked. “But I really don’t want to hear you boning Snape. Or is it the other way round?”

 

“We are so _not_ having this conversation,” Harry muttered.

“Amen,” Ron blushed.

 

***

_I knew I should have stayed in Scotland._

Severus didn’t want to seem ungrateful. He knew that Ron had worked hard to try and keep his re-appearance from reaching the people who would abuse the information. It was only natural that his family should know, Ron could not be expected to keep the secret from them after the events of the day. But as Severus lay in the basement bedroom, on the thick unfamiliar mattress and beneath the duvet cover which smelt of Ron, he wished he could get up and walk out.

 

Being around those people brought back memories which Ron had not provoked by himself. Just seeing Potter’s face had been enough to turn his stomach, even though boy had matured to man handsomely. There was just too much history there for Severus to ever feel normal looking at him again. He had spent nine years blocking the face from memory, chasing it from his nightmares and now it had been in front of him in the reality it was no more appealing.

 

_Though he didn’t look thrilled to see me, either… which surprises me as Ron told me just how ill he was…_

Had he felt on better form Severus would have quipped to himself sarcastically that Potter’s remorse was merely for show, but even he couldn’t manage to drum up such vitriol caught in the funk of his illness.

 

And Severus knew he was ill, that he had really damaged himself with the ostentatious apparition he had decided to pull. He wished he could say he didn’t regret his actions, yet lying there he was filled with nothing _but_ regret.

 

 _Ungrateful, selfish, arrogant bastard._ The voice kept calling him names and he agreed with all of them but it didn’t make him change his mind.

 

“Severus?” Ron’s gentle voice called out from the door, which Severus hadn’t seen had opened, spilling light onto the floor. “Can I come in?”

“This is your bedroom,” Severus wheezed.

 

“Yeah, I guess…” Ron walked over, placed his hand over Severus’ eyes to shield them and flicked the light on. The sky was darkening outside but the room had been dark since they’d put Severus there on returning from the hospital. “Have you been asleep?”

“What do you think?” Severus curved his lips up in a half-hearted smile.

 

Without too much effort he managed to shift slightly so that Ron could perch on the edge of the bed, which he did, and looked down into his tired face.

“Hey.”

 

The word floated uncomfortably in the ether and Ron cringed with a shuddering breath at everything that seemed to have changed between them since they’d arrived home. He knew Severus was ill, but the silence was too awkward.

 

“Is everything alright?” Severus asked him. “Or everyone?”

“I guess,” Ron said quietly, raising his hand to press lightly at his left ear which was hurting despite the painkillers.

“Stop,” Severus muttered.

“Funny how you can still command me from your sickbed,” Ron sighed. “Look. I’ve been standing outside the door for ten minutes trying to figure out how to tell you that the hospital has instructed that I feed you to ensure you’re eating.”

“I guessed they would.”

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Ron whispered.

“Do not start apologising…” Severus tested the water in shifting to sit up but ended up coughing.

 

Ron got back up and pointed his wand at Severus, shifting him magically with gentle movements. “I don’t know how muggle doctors deal without that, you know.”

Head swimming from his elevated position, Severus muttered, “Painfully.”

 

Sitting back down Ron levitated the tray he’d brought with him where he could reach it and set it to hover. “You’re not going to get all prissy and refuse my food, are you?” Ron asked warily, looking between the bowl of soup and Severus like one considered a mountain to be climbed.

“Depends,” Severus coughed.

“Just soup, it’s not very exciting.”

“Suppose I had best get used to that.”

“Probably,” Ron shrugged and reached for the spoon. “Now, do I need to make some sort of noise with the spoon?”

“Please do not make this anymore mortifying than it already is,” Severus whispered, eyes falling down to the duvet.

“Right, of course, sorry,” Ron flushed as his joke fell hideously flat. _Fucking twat, you really are, Weasley. Of course this is fucking mortifying for him._

 

Ron valiantly attempted to keep his hand from shaking as he fed the man who had been his saviour for the past half a year but he had to stop because he was in danger of dropping it everywhere.

 

“Ron?”

“Just give me a minute,” Ron swallowed hard, causing the pain in his head to spike. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose firmly to try and get his control back.

“Come here,” Severus murmured softly, spreading his arms as much as he could.

Ron looked at him worriedly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am not made of glass.”

 

Ron remembered something, then, from their very first night together –how happy he had been that Severus was properly engaging with him during sex and being rough and not overly protective of him.

 

_But then that was sex, not sickness._

 

He shifted forwards and pressed a gentle kiss onto one cool cheek and put his hands on Severus’ shoulders.

“Properly,” Severus whispered in his ear and Ron slid his palms down over his own loaned pyjamas and wrapped his arms around the narrow waist, keeping his face level with Severus’, nose inhaling the scent of his hair.

 

“And the rest…” Severus’ voice was laced with a cajoling drawl and Ron smirked at the way he asked with such confidence.

 

Their lips met in a tentative kiss which deepened when Severus leant forward and opened his mouth, thrusting his tongue into Ron’s with surprising force. Groaning slightly, at what he realised was their first proper kiss in two weeks, Ron reacted as he usually would, with smoothing hands and tender lip movements. Soon Severus was gasping for breath, much quicker than he typically should have been, and Ron pulled back slightly to give him a chance to get it back.

 

“Ready for the rest?” he jerked his head at the floating soup.

“If you have gotten over your nerves,” Severus arched a teasing eyebrow at him.

Ron chose to ignore him and scooped up another spoonful. “Eat. Do you like it?”

 

Severus swallowed like a good patient and then said, “It’s nice, thank you.”

“We’re living together now, you don’t have to thank me for food, especially when you’re ill,” Ron laughed. “But glad you like it. All I had time to make.”

“You actually cooked?” Severus was shocked by that –Ron had his own injuries to contend with but the second he had been left alone he had just carried on like normal and cooked dinner.

“It’s been known to happen…” Ron rolled his eyes.

 

Severus finished the rest of the bowl without complaint and accepted the mouthful of water Ron offered him. “You make a rather fetching nurse.”

“Good to know,” Ron snorted. “Ow.” He frowned and reached up to rub at his ears again.

“Is the pain bad?” Severus could hear how much stronger he sounded for some food.

“I’ve been ignoring it all day, best I could. Had bigger things to worry about,” Ron reached out and cheekily tweaked the end of his nose.  
“Little whore, I notice you only chance to do that when you know I cannot get out of bed and make you pay for it.”

“I’m not _stupid._ ”

“Well finding yourself next to a muggle explosive in a bin isn’t smart…”

 

Ron gave a shudder. “Yeah well. People aren’t dead, that’s the point of my job, isn’t it?”

“But you might have been.”

“You get used to it,” Ron shrugged.

 

Severus looked at him and appeared to be on the verge of speaking, but then Ron heard voices in the living room. He paled slightly.

“Mum and dad,” he looked over his shoulder. “I should go… you alright?”

“Ron, it will be fine,” Severus promised him, hoping he was right. “I never told my parents, however, so… I can’t offer you any more advice.”

“You can offer me a kiss,” Ron snatched a quick one off unsuspecting lips. “They might want to… you know… say hello.”

“Fine,” Severus swallowed nervously.

 

Ron gave him a small, anxious smile and grabbed the tray from midair. He left the bedroom and closed the door. “Hello.”

 

“Tell us what’s going on!” Molly demanded. “All I’ve had all day is cryptic clues from your brothers and Harry looks like he’s been through the Cruciatus…”

“Sit down,” Ron gestured to the sofa. “Do you want tea?”

“I want to know what’s going on!” Molly hissed.

“Sit,” Ron hissed back, able to hold his own against her despite not having had to fight her wrath since before Hermione had walked out on him.

 

He returned the tray to the kitchen and took a few deep gulps of the water Severus hadn’t finished before returning to the living room, where he saw his dad had got his mother sitting down obediently. Ron stood in front of the fireplace. “What do you know?”

 

“Something about Snape being alive?” Arthur looked at his son. “What’s going on, Ron?”

 

Carefully not looking at either of them, Ron detailed everything that had happened since Christmas Eve (though of course leaving out any of the filthier exploits) and what had happened that day. He explained thoroughly about Severus’ injuries, his life in the years since the battle and what had transpired between them. By the time he had finished, he felt thoroughly wrung out –like he couldn’t have cared what his parents’ reactions were, because all he wanted to do was to crawl into bed alongside his invalid lover and sleep for hours on end.

 

_Not a bad fucking plan, actually. After this I’m going to do just that._

 

He folded his arms over his chest and waited for them to speak.

“Ron I…” he watched his father’s mouth fall open with the trailed off sentence.

“So are you telling me that he’s in there,” Molly pointed at the bedroom. “The man who cut off my son’s ear is in that room there?”

“Mum,” Ron said threateningly. “He also _saved_ your son-in-law and all of us, it would seem…”

“I know that but still, Ron…”

“If George doesn’t have a problem with it, I don’t see why you should.”

 

“I’m just saying, Ron… you’re… well you’re injured as it is, how on earth do you expect to support, counsel and pay for another human living in this poky place?”

“Hey, leave my flat out of this!” Ron cried, making his head thump. “I love my flat.”

“Well its too small for two,” Molly narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you-”

“Mum, the man needs to heal, I hardly think moving home with you is going to help him,” Ron shook his head.

“But it would take the pressure off you, I have very little to do these days.”  
“Molly, love, I really think that you’re fighting a losing battle. Look at him,” Arthur said gently. “Have you seen him this defiant about anything in years?”

“No,” she muttered begrudgingly. “I want to see him.”

“Fine,” Ron gestured to the bedroom. “Go ahead as long as you’re going to be nice.”

“I am always nice,” she said, sounding hurt, as she got to her feet and swept into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

Ron looked at his dad and swallowed. “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve not said much…”  
“What do you want me to say?”

 

Ron looked nervously at the rug he was rucking up with his foot. “That this is okay with you.”

“Did you really think it wouldn’t be?”

“You never liked him, dad. And that’s fine, because I didn’t either… but… I know it’s got to be hard to see.”

“Hard to see what?”

“That I’m… well… kind of…”

 

Arthur laughed softly and got to his feet. “Funny how we can get as old as we want yet we’re still afraid of disappointing our parents, no?”

 

Ron accepted the sudden embrace and murmured his assent.

“Not disappointed, not upset. Just a little shocked. Stronger than I look, you forget that I raised Fred and George…”

“Thanks, Dad...”

“Should I go and rescue him from your mother?”

“Heh, she might finally have met her match. You might need to rescue _her_ from _him._ ”

 

They pulled apart as the bedroom door opened and Molly re-appeared, dabbing at her eyes.

“What did you do?” Ron hissed, springing forward.

“Nothing!” She sniffed. “He just said some things about my baby boy that I very much agreed with,” she gave an affectionate and overly motherly pinch at Ron’s cheek and then threw her arms around him; he was so tall and she so short that she only made it up to his mid-chest.

 

Utterly bewildered, Ron hugged her back making shocked eyes at his father over her head, who was trying not to laugh.

“If you need anything, anything at all,” Molly pulled back and slapped at Ron’s face gently, “You call me straight away.”

“Soup recipes,” Ron replied instantly. “Something tells me I’m going to be sick of it before we even get to winter.”

 

She beamed at him and headed into the bathroom, sniffling.

 

“Because that wasn’t totally bizarre! Wonder what he said,” Ron raked his hands back through his hair.

“It takes a lot to fell your mother in a temper. I’ll go and ask him how he did it,” Arthur smiled and Ron found himself alone as his father disappeared into the bedroom.

 

Everything seemed to blur as he stood there, and he moved to lean against the back of the sofa so he didn’t have to support his weight on his legs which suddenly felt like jelly. How had everything gone so well?

 

Somehow they had managed to leave the hospital without arousing suspicion thanks to a hastily set up portkey and Kingsley himself had apparated to test the wards around the flat. Ron was indebted to him for the way he had efficiently handled the situation and been willing to help.

 

_He could have just said no…_

 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what might have happened if Kingsley had withdrawn his support and left them smack bang in the middle of the hospital with reporters in the very next corridor –Severus would have been exposed and undoubtedly distressed by the situation. He pressed his fingers into his closed eyes trying to push the thought away, wondering when Severus’ fears of exposure had become his own.

 

“Alright?” Molly’s voice asked quietly. “How are your ears?”

“Honestly?” Ron mumbled.

“Honestly,” she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Fucking excruciating,” Ron breathed with a groan.  
“I’ll overlook your appalling language because you’re in agony,” Molly put her arm around his shoulders. “Tomorrow morning I’ll come back and we can start going through the healing potions I have to see what works. They’re so tight at the hospital and so un-experimental…”

“Right now I _love_ that you always think you know best, Mum,” Ron gave her a grateful grin and moved to rest his head on her shoulder but found it too painful.

 

_Well looks like I’m in for a night of sleeping on my back then. I hate sleeping on my back. Grr._

“Come on Molly, let’s leave them alone,” Arthur shut the door to the bedroom quietly. “They must both be shattered.”  
“Totally… ow….” Ron yawned, reaching for his ears.

“You sure you wouldn’t like me to come back with them now?”

“Nnnrgh,” Ron made a tired growly purr and she laughed at him.

“You used to do that when you were little, that sound. Takes me right back.”

 

He hugged both of them goodbye and saw them both through the fire. He looked at the flames for a while before turning to the rats in their cage.

“I know you’re not talking to me,” he sighed. “I was out for two nights and I left the Floo blocked so George couldn’t get in. But you still had plenty of mix left so I don’t know why you’re pissed off, it’s not like you starved!”

 

“Hey,” a voice came from behind him and Ron whipped round and found Harry on his hearth.

“Hey mate, what’re you doing here?”

“I…”

 

Harry gave a visible swallow and looked down at his feet. Ron took in his appearance, slightly askew, and how his hair was standing on end as if fingers had been repeatedly run through it.

“You alright?” Ron asked, taking a step closer.  
“What the fuck do you think?” Harry’s voice rose with his temper and Ron could smell the unmistakable fumes of alcohol on his breath.

 

_Fucking bastard, how come he gets a drink when the rest of us are dry?_

“I can’t believe that you kept this from me,” Harry turned and strode to where he could walk back and forth behind the sofa.

“Keep your voice down,” Ron asked –both for his ears and because Severus would hear every word in the bedroom, and from the look on Harry’s face he was sure his amazing run of good luck was about to run out.

“No, Ron,” he hissed. “You _know_ how cut up I was, you know how I feel about him!”

“I do know,” Ron immediately fumbled in his brain for a way to stop the argument. “But he made me promise, Harry, and I… what he gave me that night… I was so fucking lost I needed it. And I wanted more.”

“Selfish PRICK,” Harry burst out. “So you took a shag over telling me the truth?”

“Harry, you wouldn’t like the truth!” Ron’s temper flared, and whether it was justified or not, after the long day he’d had, he couldn’t stop it. “He doesn’t want your adoration! The only reason we ever kissed is because we got into a fight about you, he insulted you, I took offense, had a fight with a Christmas tree and ended up kissing him… he doesn’t want what you need to give. Why would I tell you that?”

 

“Because you’re my best friend,” there was a definite wobble to the brunette’s lower lip and Ron didn’t think he could quite handle tears just then.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I really am but I… can you understand why I didn’t tell you?”  
“Because you wanted to keep your little fuck buddy a secret and thought he might dump you if you told anybody!”

 

Harry spat the words so venomously that Ron shivered at the iciness in his tone.

“No, Harry, it’s more than that.”

“Now it is, at the beginning it was just a fuck, wasn’t it?” Harry raised his chin and for the first time in a good few years Ron found himself wanting to aim a punch or three at it.

“No, it was never just a fuck, Harry,” he folded his arms across his chest to control his hands. “You… he made me realise that there had been something very wrong with Hermione for a bloody long time, long before she dumped me.”

 

“WELL IT WAS YOUR OWN STUPID FAULT IF YOU COULDN’T FIGURE THAT OUT ON YOUR OWN THEN!”

 

New levels of pain danced through Ron’s ear canals and he gasped in response as his hands rose to protect them.

 

“Shut up,” he begged.  
“No!” Harry shouted again. “Do you have any idea how much this hurts? You have any idea what I went through in that fucking ward with them telling me to talk about my _feelings_ and my _problems_ and being able to say everything _except_ what I wanted to say to him? Do you know how much of an idiot it makes you feel sitting by a headstone when you KNOW there’s no body there? And you’ve had him for SIX months Ron and you said nothing!”

“Harry, please, I know you’re upset and I knew you would be but I can’t have this fight now, I’m not…”

“Good!” Harry scoffed. “Good, you’re not up to par so you can’t turn this all round on me and my problems.”

“This _is_ about your problems!” Ron yelled frustratedly. “JUST LIKE FUCKING ALWAYS!”

 

_Whoops. Well. There’s that step towards making peace you needed. Not. Shit._

“Here we go, as usual,” Harry slammed his hand onto the back of the sofa and Ron knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth –whenever they fought it fell back to re-opening old wounds. “You can’t handle the fact the past was focussed on me. Well news for you, Ron, IT WAS. YOU WEREN’T THE ONE THAT CAUSED THIS FUCKING MESS!”

“This has nothing to do with how I feel about you, d’you really fucking think I’m still jealous Harry? Jealous of everything that transpired? Jealous of the heartache I fucking nursed you through?” Ron asked, incredulous. “Because I’m gonna be brutally honest here and say right now, the last thing I’d be of you is jealous –I wouldn’t want to end up half the prick you are. Get out of my living room, NOW.”

 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

Harry didn’t say a word as he stomped to the Floo but it flashed green before he could leave; George appeared in a cloud of soot. He froze the instant that he saw the looks on their faces.

“I’ll go-” he turned.

“No,” Ron said coldly, surprising even himself. “He was just leaving.”

“Ron, I don’t mean it…” Harry couldn’t find words and it was very obvious he was floundering.

“Come back to me when you can handle this, Harry, when you’re not pissed,” Ron looked at the rug.

 

He didn’t look up again until he heard Harry leave.

“What the fuck?” George exclaimed.

“I wish I knew,” Ron muttered numbly and took a few steps back.

“You… you okay Ron?”

“No,” he whispered.

 

There was a movement then as he was swept into familial arms for what felt like the hundredth time that day and George gently pushed Ron’s face into his shoulder. It felt odd to stand there with their positions reversed, thinking on all the times he had performed such a role for his older brother. To have it returned was almost discomfiting. But the gentle hand in his hair was nice despite the fact plenty would call it inappropriate. They stood together for what felt like forever before Ron felt able to pull away. Before he wanted to.

 

“I should get to Severus,” Ron muttered. “No way could he have missed any of that.”  
“Right,” George stepped back. “I forgot, you have your rock in someone else now.”  
“Don’t you start on the self-pity,” Ron begged him. “George, nobody replaces you.”

“Good. I don’t do well with replacement,” George turned with a slight grin. “Except where… well. When it comes to you replacing him, I do alright.”

 

Ron managed to crack him a smile. “I’ll firecall tomorrow.”

“Okay. Harry’ll… at the end he just looked distraught, Ron. He’ll be back. Don’t think he’s gone forever.”

“I guess,” Ron shrugged miserably. “Night… and thanks, George, for today.”

 

He watched George leave and changed the Floo to approved access only. He would have to be up to admit the healers, but despite how tired he felt Ron he was now unsure he was going to get to sleep at all. After turning off all the lights he took a deep breath and entered the bedroom. Severus was still sitting up in bed and looked at him with pensive eyes.

 

“Not the best end to the night,” Ron muttered, slouching to the chair by the wardrobe.

“Ron, as much as it pains me to ask this… will you please help me to the toilet?”

“Oh, fuck and arse I’m sorry,” Ron groaned, feeling a royal idiot for forgetting the basic needs of his new flatmate. “I’m…”

“If the word sorry crosses your lips one more time I will expend all of my energy hobbling over there to slug you round the head,” Severus hissed and managed to ease his legs out of the bed by himself.

 

“Look, should I just get…?”

“I refuse to relieve myself in anything other than the toilet,” Severus’ voice cut sharply across the bedroom and Ron winced, suddenly sick of sharp words and treading on eggshells.

 

_Well you’ve got months of it so fucking get used to it._

 

Repeating that thought in his head he managed to escort Severus there and back without much trouble, though he was scared of the man over-exerting himself. When he was lying safely down in bed again, Ron noticed how out of breath Severus was and chewed nervously on his lip as he stripped off his clothes.

 

“W-what, no strip tease t-tonight?” Severus asked with a tired grin.

“Like I’m going to fuck an invalid,” Ron snorted with a roll of his eyes. “Well. This much of an invalid… Ask me again in a few days.”

“So you’re too repulsed by me now, is that it?” Severus gave an injured sniff.

  
Ron crawled into bed next to him and groaned at the warmth the sheets already held from Severus’ body heat from his three hours inside it. He sank down and tested how his head felt on the pillow.

“I can’t lie on my ears,” Ron whispered. “I guess that means a cuddle is out, which is a fucking bitch because right now I could do with one or fifty and I bet you could use one as well.”

“Potter lost it, hmm?”

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything…”

“Shit thin walls,” Ron swallowed.

“He will come back,” Severus murmured to him. “He loves you too much as a friend to lose you.”

“I thought he felt like that about Hermione… you saw how he treated her,” Ron looked miserably up at the ceiling.

“But Hermione didn’t have the key to his absolution,” Severus pointed out.  
“Yeah well. If he thinks I’m letting him near you when he’s being that spiteful he can knob off.”

“Who came in at the end? You both spoke very quietly.”  
“George,” Ron smiled slightly. “Afraid he’s been ousted.”

 

“It is odd for me to observe you around them,” Severus said quietly.  
“Why?” Ron frowned.

“You are loved and your parents are… very warm people. Other than you, I am not used to warm.”

“What did you say to make my mum cry?” Ron asked immediately.

“That is between me and your mother,” Severus said with a small smile.

“She said you said stuff about me she agreed with, been singing my praises, have we?” Ron teased.

“Something like that,” Severus played it down.

“Must have been something good to make her cry.”

“It is not important.”

“Yes it is!”

“I am very tired.”

“Bastard,” Ron growled playfully, and reached for the light. “Nothing else you need before bed?”

 

Severus looked at him then and murmured something Ron couldn’t quite catch.

“What?”

“Your manners are appalling.”

“And you’re a pedantic bastard even when you’re ill, now what did you say?” Ron demanded.

 

There was a low growl and then Severus slowly turned in the bed, breath wheezing, and flung his arm over Ron’s torso, dragging their pillows closer together with his free hand. He leant forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

 

Ron turned the light off without further comment and the room was plunged into darkness, the thin strip of window causing a wash of moonlight along top of the opposite wall.

 

“Night,” the soft murmur in his ear was beautifully painless; Ron reached for Severus’ hand on his stomach and laced their fingers together.

 

“Severus?”

“Mm?”

“I _am_ sorry. I know you don’t want to be here.”

“How are you sure of that?”  
“I can tell in your eyes.”

“It is _not_ you,” Severus whispered along the pillow after a pause. “Please understand that. You are the only thing which makes it bearable.”

“It’s just the situation,” Ron surmised.

“Yes.”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Shh.”

 

Ron felt warm lips on the side of his face and he turned to them in the darkness.

 

_Say it. Say it. Say it._

They kissed in a sensual manner which, despite his tiredness, made Ron’s crotch stir with interest. He hummed his contentment at the way Severus sucked lightly on his bottom lip as he pulled back. There was a gentle squeeze on his held hand, and a minute later Severus was snoring softly.

 

_Arse._


	10. Chapter 10

“Ow!” Ron jerked and swore at himself inwardly for breaking the wall of manliness he’d managed to construct around his body whilst the MediWitch assessed his ears.

 

“I knew you were lying,” she rolled her eyes. “Really, you think because you’re some big high and mighty Senior Auror and war hero that I can’t tell when you’re in pain?”

“Fine, I’m lying,” Ron breathed and instinctively reached up to rub at his ear but the witch swatted his hand away. 

 

He was sitting on the sofa in his living room, which seemed increasingly small of late. He still loved it, but the walls which once looked open and free were somewhat oppressive despite their light colour.

 

“And how do you feel otherwise?” the witch asked him, jotting something down on her clipboard. “Sleeping okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Ron said. “Just don’t seem to get enough of it.”

“You do look awfully tired, how many hours are you getting a night?”

 

 _Two, if I’m lucky._ “Six or seven.”

“Fine when you were healthy, it’s not now,” she sighed. “I’ll prescribe a sleeping draught in a small dose which should extend your natural rest by an hour or two and we’ll see how it goes.”

 

Ron didn’t reply to her, just gave a curt nod and waited for her next question.

 

“How are you coping with the caring aspect of things?”

“Easy,” Ron smiled. It wasn’t a lie, caring for Severus wasn’t an issue or a chore; it was just tiring and increasingly hard when the man had a different mood for every day.

 

 _Must not be bitter. Must not be bitter._ Ron reminded himself of the helpful little chant and inhaled deeply.

 

It was a rainy July and the summer looked to be a complete wash out. It did nothing to help their moods as they lived together. Ron still had a job to go back to but, much to his own consternation and the bafflement of the healers, his injuries which should have been easily healed after the initial push were refusing to improve. He had had to let go of his position organising the security for the Cup and it had killed him to do it, especially as the person that took over wouldn’t have even been his choice for the office tea duty.

 

_Honestly, I swear that prick couldn’t even tie his own shoelaces._

“I think I’m done,” the witch smiled down at him.

“Cheers, Kay,” Ron looked up at her and forced a smile onto his own face. “I wonder how they’re going in there.” He looked at the bedroom.

 

If Ron hated having to submit to the treatment of the Healers, it was nothing compared to how Severus felt about it. However, still having very little strength and needing help if he wanted to make a quick getaway, Ron was somewhat grateful that the man had no choice but to lay there and accept it if he ever wanted to disappear again.

 

_Yeah, that little thing we don’t talk about where we both know that as soon as he’s well enough, he’s outta here and I won’t see him for dust._

Ron didn’t know anything for sure, but when he saw the angry glare in Severus’ eyes after a particularly rough session or when he simply seemed to get tired of Ron helping him, he was convinced that was what would happen.

 

He got to his feet just as the post plopped through the letterbox onto the doormat, he stooped to pick it up and realised it was for Severus. He left it on the coffee table and was about to offer his healer, Kay, an aural specialist, a cup of tea when the door to the bedroom opened and they heard voices.

“If you keep fighting it, Severus, you’ll never be rid of me.”

 

The stony silence told Ron just how the healing session had gone and he rolled his eyes as he turned to look out of the front window up at the street. The bad weather was at least helping the herbs and flowers potted in his little courtyard.

 

“See you on Thursday,” Kay called to him and Ron turned to wave and watched them both leave through the Floo. He immediately switched it to approved access only and yawned.

 

 _Ow. Ow. Ow._ He was even annoying _himself_ by whinging so frequently. Ron turned and saw that the second healer must have helped Severus to the sofa.

“How was it?” Ron grimaced at him.

“As usual,” Severus sounded desolate.

 

It wasn’t always as bad as Ron felt that morning. A month had passed but the majority of it had actually been spent in a rather companionable atmosphere. He had three weeks under his belt of experience from March and he used it all to help Severus feel more comfortable in a place which was not his own, eating food he had not paid for and receiving medical treatment that he loathed.

 

“How was yours?” Severus eyed him suspiciously.

“Fine, they still don’t know why,” Ron shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered aimlessly around the living room.

“And did you lie about the amount of sleep you’ve been managing again?”

“No,” Ron lied, but knew his burning ears would give him away.

“Why do you refuse to admit you cannot sleep?” Severus frowned. “After everything and your new… responsibilities, it would not surprise anyone.”

“Because they just want to plug me full of sleeping draughts,” Ron swallowed.

“And your point is? They are extremely effective.”

 

Ron thought on how to answer without giving away his brother’s secrets, but he knew it would be unlikely for Severus to mention it if he did. The older man had become used to the array of Weasleys tramping around Ron’s flat and he had even grown accustomed to talking with them, but it was obvious that he wouldn’t become so involved as to impart secretive knowledge. Falling down on the sofa next to him and ignoring the filthy he look he received for jarring the cushions as he did so, Ron picked up some stray parchment to fiddle with as he spoke.

 

“George… after Fred went, he didn’t sleep much. And we wanted him to be well so we went along with the course of treatment the hospital decided on. Sleeping draughts was one of the potions, and it was fine…”

“They are effective, as I said…”

“Well yeah, but then they can be too effective. George doesn’t sleep without it now. Pretty much addicted. I know its better that than some mangy needle injected muggle drug but I… we’re of the same cast, me and him… we react the same, we do the same things, Severus.”

“Oh… you worry that you will become addicted,” Severus realised.

“Yeah,” Ron turned and looked at him, propping his head up on his arm resting on the back of the sofa. “I don’t want to be dependent on something like that. Sleep has to come naturally at some point.”

“It will but you will crash first,” Severus said bluntly.

“I know that… and I know I have to do what’s best by you, too.”  


Dark eyes softened over him then and Ron flushed.

 

“Look, Ron, do you really think I’m going to let you get addicted to anything?”

“You won’t be here forever,” Ron ventured.

“Where am I going to go?” Severus frowned. “Within the next six months, at least? And even then…”  
“Don’t tell me you’re going to stay, Severus, not if you don’t mean it,” Ron said quietly. “So why don’t we just not discuss that topic, like we haven’t for a month, yeah?”

 

There was a slight nod and then Severus spoke again. “Tell me about George… you… I watch you together and you seem to have a close relationship…”  
“Well yeah,” Ron said, surprised. “That happens when you help someone through what he went through.”

“Which was what?” Severus asked pointedly.

“Depression, insomnia, an obsession with self harm which nobody other than me knows about.”

“I have never understood that practice…” Severus searched for the words to say what he wanted to delicately. “But working at Hogwarts I saw my fair share of depressed teenagers… especially being Head of Slytherin, some of the worst in the school…”

“I read a lot when it started, trying to help. He wouldn’t let me tell Hermione to try and get some muggle books on the subject, they’re… sometimes with the psychology stuff they’re better at it than we are.”

“Has he stopped now?”

“As far as I know, for at least three years,” Ron nodded. “Which is great.”  
“Are you scared that if he began again he would not come to you because of my presence here?”

 

Ron wasn’t going to lie and say that he hadn’t agonized over that in the hours he laid awake at night. “Yeah, suppose I am.”

“He seems well enough when he visits?”

“He always has done though, I don’t know where the fuck he pulls it from but he’s always been like it, even when he was at his worst. In front of Mum and Dad or in the shop he sparkles and then we’ll go somewhere else and it’s like a completely different person.”

 

Severus looked away then. “Living a double life like that is hard.”

“Mm,” Ron nodded and reached out for Severus’ hand as he shifted closer on the sofa.

 

Ron had wondered if Severus would begin to open up about the past after a period of living together, but he had been proved wrong. He couldn’t say he was disappointed; it was very obvious that Severus’ past was more than enough to provide nightmares and Ron had plenty of those on his own.

 

“You haven’t pushed him away, have you, because of my presence?”

“Merlin no. It wouldn’t work. He’s persistent enough, I promise. I’ve been asking everyone and they just say he’s been spending time on his own. And he seems almost normal when he’s here so… I’m watching though.”

“I was not suggesting that you had slacked off, Ron, don’t take it the wrong way… I just… I do not want you to upend your life so much for me.”  
“I promise I’m not,” Ron threw him a grin. “I know you hate me helping you to the toilet, and feeding you in the mornings before your arms start working, and god knows what else, but… in between all those bits, Severus, when it’s just us, it’s pretty… well. Sort of like when I was with you on holiday.”

 

“I am not a fun person to live with,” Severus hooked up an eyebrow.

“Oh, I dunno,” Ron cocked his head. “I think you’re alright.”

 

Severus gave him a small smile and leant forward to kiss him on the forehead.

 

“This is the part where you’re meant to say something nice about me,” Ron teased, and got up when he remembered the letter that had come. “This came just,” he handed it over.

 

“Helen,” Severus recognised the handwriting and ripped it open.

 

Ron stayed on his feet and contemplated lunch. It was hard, cooking for someone who couldn’t eat anything with strong seasoning –garlic, onions and leeks were completely out along with most herbs and it was a pain in Ron’s backside, considering that everything was then bland and in many cases, disgusting.

 

He was thinking about a massive plate of forbidden chilli when Severus spoke again, and he nearly had to wipe up the drool to be able to reply.

 

“I was waiting for this,” Severus sighed, keeping his eyes on the letter so that Ron would not see the hurtful disappointment in his eyes. “She has someone else interested in the rooms and the money would really help her. She doesn’t want to pressure me though.”

 

His cousin had insisted that he not pay any rent whilst he was not actually living above the pub, but Severus had assumed that there would come a point that she wanted to lease the space to someone else –essentially making him homeless. The letter officially marked the fact that Ron’s was the only residence he had, and with its arrival took away his hopes of solitude.

 

 _You’re still an ungrateful bastard!_ Severus cleared his throat and looked up at the redhead.

 

“Well,” Ron thought about his words carefully. “I suppose that’s not unreasonable.”

“I know,” Severus muttered.

“I’ll go up this afternoon and collect your things?” Ron shifted uncomfortably, seeing the resignation in Severus’ pale face. He was glad he could not see his eyes. “If you tell me what’s where so I don’t miss anything. I think she might just about have forgiven me now, for causing you to hurt yourself…”  
“You are not well enough to apparate,” Severus sighed.

“Well, I’d rather do it sooner than later.”

“You would feel that way. I on the other hand would be grateful for a few more days’ leeway.”

 

Nausea bubbled in Ron’s stomach as he went cold. “Because you want to see if in a few days you’ll be well enough to go back?”

“I… yes,” Severus snapped his jaw shut with that and didn’t look up.

“I don’t see the point of keeping her waiting,” Ron shrugged. “I know you… you see giving them up as being made homeless, Severus. Makes me wonder what I have to do get you comfortable here, because I’m rapidly running out of ideas.”

“I do feel comfortable with you-” Severus protested.

“No, comfortable with _me_ is not being comfortable here,” Ron looked at the floorboards. “What is it, Severus? Am I getting something really obvious wrong? Do I just… fuck it.”

 

He turned away and faced the fireplace to try and gather his wits.

“I have said so many times before, Ron, that it is not you, and it is nothing you are doing –consciously or sub-consciously. It is just the position I am in.”

“You say that, Severus… but plenty of people are adaptable,” Ron shrugged, walking for his coat on the hooks by the door. “Do you think I _like_ helping you around to do everything, that I don’t want you to be able to do everything embarrassing by yourself? That I can’t empathise with how utterly shite it must make you feel?”

 

“I have always been adverse to change,” Severus said stonily.

“Well, maybe it’s time you made the fucking effort if you can’t ‘change’,” Ron commented. His voice was devoid of anger but there was plenty of hurt roiling around under the surface of his tone. “I’ll be back later.”

“You’re going now?” Severus looked round at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure as hell not staying here,” Ron gave a gentle laugh. “You know I care for you, Severus, and that I will do anything for you, but I… I need my own space when you say stuff like this, yeah?”

“I understand,” Severus felt an idiot for placing such expectation on Ron.

 

He bowed his head, looking down at the weave of his dressing gown and jumped slightly when he felt a gentle hand card into his hair and then an arm wrap around his front from behind. Ron’s musky aroma filtered around him and he groaned.

“Severus…” Ron kissed the jasmine scented hair and left his nose buried in it.

“Yes?”

“I get it, alright? I really do. I just… I suppose the girlish part of me, the part which likes soppy films and flowers and puppies and kittens… that part of me wants you to _want_ to be here with me. And to not just be your answer between the rock and the hard place.”

 

Severus felt another gentle kiss in his hair and then the arm was gone, and so was Ron with a gentle pop.

 

Exhaling loudly, Severus looked up at the room which, with Ron’s absence, seemed huge and devoid.

 

_He can’t plan to be gone long or he would have moved me back to the bedroom and checked if I needed anything._

He heard the gentle metallic tapping of the water bottle on the side of the rat cage and looked up to see Peaches drinking and Penny looking at him almost sympathetically.

 

_She’s a rat, Severus. Rats are not sympathetic._

 

He looked at the shelf of photo frames on the wall above the cage and looked over the varying members of the Weasley family. Severus would never understand how they had just so willingly accepted him. Even the youngest, a girl he had been forced to punish in his year at Headmaster at Hogwarts – _admittedly, I didn’t try particularly hard-_ had been at ease with him once Harry had come to his senses and reached out to Ron.

 

Severus was uncomfortable around them, just as he had been Ron at first. But they were just so warm, and friendly, it was hard to be anything other than polite in return. The eldest children were quite possibly the most impressive older brothers that Severus could imagine anybody having. Glamorous careers, incredibly handsome (even considering the werewolf massacre and countless burns from dragons) and interesting personalities, he could imagine just how hard it would have been growing up with their act to follow.

 

Percy was never around much, a fact which Ron seemed to delight in but Severus was slightly disappointed to find, because he wanted to see if the pompous Head Boy had matured at all. From what Ron had told him, he had for a while then slipped back into old ways. George was far quieter than Severus remembered teaching him, but then anybody would be, he assumed. Ginny was rather amazing to watch –petite, fiery haired and more self-assured than most women twice her age, she was a firecracker. He’d been warned the second she thought he was well enough she would be interrogating him about Ron and his intentions. Severus could well believe it.

 

His eyes lingered over a picture of the Golden Trio at Hogwarts, changed only by the fact that someone had stuck something over Hermione’s form on the frame but Ron could never get it out of them quite who it had been. Severus very much suspected George from the fiery defence of his lover he remembered in the hospital when he had been out but hearing.

 

Thinking of George brought back memories of being on a broom and missing with Sectumsempra, nearly being blinded by flying blood produced from the botched hex. Severus expected him to mention the ear every time that he visited but suspected Ron was telling him not to. It was one of the things that Severus really did feel strongly about, out of all the things that happened –probably because it was only one of the few times he had failed.

 

And then there was Harry, undoubtedly part of the Weasley family seeing as he had married into it and had prior been treated like a son by Molly and Arthur. Even the thought of the man made Severus’ back tingle, the man he had given everything to protect, even his life, until fate had played a cruel trick on him.

 

He looked away from the photo frames but his eyes landed on the bookshelf instead. And on there was the book he still refused to look at for more than a few seconds.

 

 _Should have taken George’s advice and locked it in the freezer._   That thought alone was proof of how much Severus was becoming used to the presence of the Weasley family, that he thought of them in passing and considered taking their advice. Though he hadn’t entirely understood George’s description of the American television show where one character kept his copy of a horror novel in the freezer when he got too scared of it, it sounded like a good idea.

 

_I think I’m going to have to ask him to hide it…_

 

/***/

 

_“Harry, remember what we talked about?” Ron said, shooting a purposeful glance at Severus, then back to his best friend.  
“I remember,” Harry mumbled, and then to Severus’ horror Ron ran a hand through his hair as he passed, kissed the top of Severus’ head and left the bedroom, leaving him trapped alone with Harry Potter._

_“Going to kill him when he comes back?” Harry saw his expression._

_“Painfully,” Severus muttered._

_“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this. But I want to apologise, firstly for the way I upset Ron the other night… I was… trashed.”_

_“You have amazing clarity when you are off your face, Potter.”_  
“Can you at least call me Harry?”  
“Are you going to call me Severus?”

_Harry looked at him. “Potter it is then. It just makes me feel fifteen again.”  
“I hope you are no longer as insolent as you were when you were fifteen.”_

_“Guess my actions so far haven’t really shown you any different, right?”_

_“Not particularly.”_

_“Well… sorry for that as well then.”  
“You do not have to apologise for everything. Or anything. I do not want your apologies, but I expect Ron has told you as much and yet you are still here.”_

_“He’s my best friend,” Harry narrowed his eyes. “If you’re hoping I’ll be chased away just because you’re here, you’ve got another thing coming.”_

_Severus could see on the man’s face that it clearly felt satisfying to finally sarcastically reply to the figure who had given him so much grief, been so hard on him, without fear of retribution –at least, none that mattered._

_“I only want to say one thing,” Harry sighed. “You know what it is. I know you don’t want it, and I know you didn’t do it for me. But I’m going to do it anyway because if the end taught me anything, Snape, it’s that I had to start doing things for myself. So, for me, I want to say thank you. For everything.”_

_Forcing himself to look at the glittering emerald eyes which physically caused an ache in his chest, Severus took a deep breath. “Fine. You are welcome, Potter.”_

_They looked at each other then and Harry looked like he was on the verge of laughing at the feelings coursing through his body. To some extent Severus understood, he would probably do his own laughing with Ron later on._

_“Somewhat anticlimactic, no?” Severus asked him quietly and Harry gently snorted._

_“Yeah, you could say that. Ah, my counsellor will be so proud of me.”_

_“You can finally stop paying their extortionate fees now?”_

_“I’ll also be richer. Your coming back seems to have done me several favours.”_

_“Shame I cannot say the same for me.”_

_“You really shouldn’t let Ron hear you say that,” Harry got to his feet. “You might think he’s bulletproof to your sarcasm but he’s not –he’s not from anybody.”  
“Are you giving me relationship advice?” Severus gracefully arched an eyebrow in disbelief._

_“When he’s my best friend, Snape, you’ll damn well listen, too. I’m already down one.”_  
  


_“Well, too many repeat performances of the other night and you’ll be down two. I am not the only one with the ability to upset him, Potter.”_

_“I was drunk, I apologised to him,” Harry faltered. “He knows what I…”_

_“And you know what he has been through since she left him. Imagine your best friend telling you that you should have forgone comfort and pleasure for their benefit. Again.”_

_Severus couldn’t help the barb at the end and saw it land with the guilt blossoming into Harry’s face, his eyes clouding slightly. But then he blinked and it was replaced with anger._

_“I don’t need to feel any more guilt over the past, Snape, so don’t try this. You want him, I want him. Apparently we have equal stakes. Either we get on, or we don’t, and one or both of us lose him.”_

_Severus didn’t reply, but looked pointedly away._

__  
“Thanks,” Harry said softly. “For letting me do that.”  
“Contrary to your memories of me, I am not the hard-hearted bastard who taught you. I was that because I had to be,” Severus hated the honesty falling from his lips.

_“I’m glad,” Harry shrugged. “If only for Ron. He deserves more than hard-hearted. He deserves the best…” There was heavy implication in the last word._

_“Potter, I won’t throw insults if you don’t,” Severus glared at him._

_“Alright, I’m going,” Harry gave him an annoyingly impish grin –a grin that was Lily’s through and through._

_“Potter,” Severus closed his eyes and looked away. “Thank you. For clearing my name. If I had known you would, I might not have stayed away as long as I did.”_

_“I’m not the arrogant prick you thought I was, Snape.”_

_“And neither am I.”_

_Accord met, Harry left. Severus stayed seated because he could not walk. He was glad it was over._

_/***/_

Severus was dragged from the memory by the dinging of the Floo for approval.

“Anybody in, it’s only me,” Severus wasn’t quite sure but he hazarded a guess at George and cleared his throat.

“Accept.”

 

The Floo network had really come on leaps and bounds since he had last properly used it. The option to accept or decline visitors was relatively new, Ron had said. In Severus’ memory it was yes, no or firecall.

 

George stepped onto the hearth dressed into the garish magenta robes which were the uniform for working at Wheezes and Severus gave him a small smile.

“Ron’s not in,” he informed him.  
“Where’s he gone?” George made a face. “I was instructed to bring this by mum today, she found it in storage and thinks he might want it.”  
“He, uh… he had to go to Scotland to pick up my things. My cousin wants to rent the room out again.”  
“Oh,” George’s eyes flashed with understanding of what that meant and Severus looked away. “Silly prat should have come and got me, I would have gone with him.”

“I think he wanted some time on his own,” Severus swallowed.

“I suppose he’s been crowded with people for the past month… he’s always liked to be a bit of a loner when it suited him.”

“And with me here intruding on his personal space…” Severus trailed off.

 

“I don’t think it counts as intruding when he invited you, Severus,” George pointed out gently. “He’s Ron. If you piss him off he’ll tell you.”  
“Did he tell _you_?” Severus looked up at the standing redhead, so differently built from the one whose body he now knew almost as well as his own. “When he was looking after you, did he point out when you upset or annoyed him?”

“Eventually,” George shrugged. “And now he doesn’t think twice about it.”

 

He set down the item he was holding on the coffee table and gingerly sat down on the sofa next to Severus. “Do you need anything, I imagine he’ll be gone a while?”

“I’m fine,” Severus said forcedly.

“Not a charity case, I remember,” George gave him a wink. “I need to get back to the shop anyway. I cannot for the life of me figure out why the new itching powder formulation is failing.”

“Do you still test all of your products on yourself?” Severus asked interestedly, remembering Minerva McGonagall’s indignation when she had caught them testing on first years –something Severus had actually found quite ingenious.

“Oh yeah,” George laughed. “It was a lot funnier when Fred was around though; at least I had someone to laugh with. Ron never let me test on him.”  
“Smart lad, really,” Severus assessed.

“Smarter than he lets on, though he can’t figure out the itching powder either. It’s just a light tickle and that’s not going to terrorise the Hogwarts Professors, is it?”

“I hated you for that final year,” Severus remembered. “You seemed to be plying them with the ammunition to fight off the Carrows but obviously, I myself was caught in the mire.”

 

“I wish I could say I was sorry,” George looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. “But considering we supplied Ginny for free…”

 

Severus gave a dark laugh and looked away.

  
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh,” there was awe in George’s tone.  
“It has been known to happen.”

“It looks good on you.”

“I wish I could say the same about your robes but they are _actually_ bringing on a headache.”

 

“Me and you are going to get on just fine, Severus,” George turned away, laughing.

 

***

Ron couldn’t believe how loud the groan he emitted sounded in the quiet dark bedroom. He was tired, having been to Scotland and back in a day, but there had been no doubt in what Severus wanted from the minute the light had gone out. And whilst he was tired, Ron was also incredibly horny.

 

He was wary of Severus causing himself harm, but when he had half rolled on top of him and effectively pinned him down, Ron hadn’t had the heart to push him off.

 

_And I don’t want to push him off, either… if we can’t fuck this is the next best thing and I’m not stupid enough to chase it away._

“I missed you today,” Severus’ whisper was low and silky, completely without wheeze which made Ron smile into the dark confines of the room. “You seemed to be gone forever.”

“It only felt like that because you needed the loo by the end,” Ron breathed as he felt warm lips kiss down his throat and he threw his head back to improve Severus’ access.

“Well, true, but mostly I just missed you; obviously I have become acclimatised to your constant presence…”

“I missed you too,” Ron reached up and sank his fingers into silky hair and ran them through to the very tips, repeating the action with both hands when it drew a growl out of the busy mouth.

“So good,” Severus licked at the hollow at the base of Ron’s throat before sucking. He felt the thin body arch up beneath him and ignored the way his tired muscles protested at arching with it.

“It’s getting longer,” Ron commented. “Do you cut it often?”

“Yes, badly, by myself with whatever scissors I can find. It grows fast.”  
“I like it a bit longer.”  
“Why?” He set his lips to nibbling along a bare collarbone.

“Because then I can properly run my hands through it,” Ron made his point and Severus shivered.

“Fine, it stays longer,” Severus ruled, and leant back up to join their lips, bringing his hands up to cradle Ron’s face as he thoroughly mastered his mouth; he was proud of the way it instantly hardened the length pressing into his hip. “What do you want?”

“You not to hurt yourself,” Ron whispered, licking his lips clean.

“Well, if I promised not to do that?” Severus ran his fingers over a nipple and pinched it with increasing hardness.

“Ah,” Ron gasped with the painful sensation. “Then I’d want you to wank me…”

“Right answer,” Severus smirked and kissed him again; letting his hand trail down the smoothly skinned torso, teasing his fingertips over the slightly bony hip he found and then he dabbled them in coarse curls.

“I love that,” Ron growled, arching up. “Always have. It’s just…” he moaned loudly as Severus’ fingertips brushed against his cock.

 

The teasing continued for a few minutes longer as Severus reached past the aching erection to taunt his sac and Ron was soon panting his need and writhing his hips.

“You would have made a wonderful whore,” Severus teased him, running a slim finger up his length.

“And you’d make a fantastic dom,” Ron shot back with a hiss which heightened when the finger ran across the head and smudged the pre-come there. “I can just imagine you in control of a whip…”

“Is that because you feel I am suited to it, or because it is what you want?” Severus drawled in his ear, swirling with the tip of his index finger.

“I don’t know,” Ron mumbled and Severus was willing to bet several galleons his redheaded lover was blushing every bit as bright as his hair.

“If I were to dominate you, would you be a good sub? Do everything I commanded?”

“Maybe,” Ron breathed, sliding his hands down Severus back, trying to slip around his hips to find the erection he knew was there.

 

“Sit up with me,” Severus murmured, and then he braced himself for the effort of what he was trying to do. He seated himself and spread his legs, reaching for Ron’s hips to pull him in the middle.

 

Ron went willingly, excited by the darkness and the way Severus’ voice was retaining the dark growl. He reached around Severus to check he was against the headboard before leaning back against his chest. Tight arms immediately ensconced him and he felt a thick, hot erection prodding between his arse cheeks. The hand that had been teasing him so perfectly before crept down his stomach, plunged into his pubic hair once more and then curled around his cock, pulling outright in a stretch which felt every bit as satisfying as the sensation of being fondled.

 

_And that is why being with another bloke fucking rocks; they know exactly what feels good…_

 

Ron grinned at the very thought and moaned as the hand began to pump up and down on his shaft and the wicked mouth returned to his ear.

 

“I have done it, you know… the domination scene, slave play…”

“I should have guessed,” Ron whispered as a thumb circled his sensitive exposed cockhead.

“However, I was not always in the role you assume,” Severus closed his eyes and licked the shell of Ron’s ear.

 

Hot pangs of lust wracked Ron’s stomach as he absorbed what Severus was saying, and images of the man in various states of submission drenched his mind. “Fuck.”

“I knew that would shock you,” Severus laughed slightly. “But just because I am the more domineering of the two of us does not mean I was always like that…”  
“Tell me,” Ron begged, thrusting his hips to press into the hand.

 

Severus stoked him a few more times before speaking again, increasing the pressure until he heard ragged pants slicing through the air. He slowed down again and grinned evilly at Ron’s whine of protest.

 

“When I was your age I was regularly submitting to another man,” He kissed down Ron’s neck. “Who was very well versed in the art of orgasm depravation and bondage.”

“Oh sweet…” Ron let his head fall back on Severus’ shoulder as the images burst before his eyes in the darkness; images of chains and punishment, a world which had hovered in his fantasies and never quite bloomed into reality.

“It is very different to fantasise,” Severus murmured to him. “Some things are fantasies for a reason… it is not advisable to find your arms chained to a wall with someone instructed to lick your cock for a determined period of time, no matter how many times you climax, and realise it is not for you…”

“Did someone… ah… fuck… did someone do that to you?”

“If the answer is yes?” Severus whispered directly into his ear, hoping it would not hurt.

“Then I need to know more,” Ron gasped, hardening further.

 

Severus let his other hand run down Ron’s side and drip between his legs to cup his balls. He was not surprised that before long the redhead was canting his hips forward, begging for more.

 

“I only ended up in such a position as I had disobeyed a direct order not to come,” he murmured.

“Could he not… use spells to stop you?” Ron was surprised his question was coherent with the persistent pumping of his cock and gentle tugging at his sac.

“He preferred to issue an order and punish when it was disobeyed, a particularly cruel master but then I knew what I was walking in to…”

“How many times did you come when you were chained to the wall?”

“I lost count,” Severus craned his neck to latch onto Ron’s throat again.

“Fucking hell…” The tension of the day melted out of Ron’s body, like usual when he was in Severus’ arms. “I want you to do that to me…”

“What part?”

“The wall part.”

“Not the domination?”

“Just…. Unghfuck,” he reacted to the increased speed Severus had set.

 

They both fell silent then until they groaned together as Ron began to unravel, his hips moving back and forth on the bed, providing enough friction for Severus behind him to gain his own pleasure. Neglecting everything but Ron’s cock, Severus tugged him backwards and held him in one arm in a painfully tight grip which he knew he would pay for when the adrenalin of the orgasm building in his groin left him.

 

The pleasure was so hazy, though, so driven by the tiny growls and begs that slipped from Ron’s lips, that he didn’t care. Ron tensed suddenly, his heels digging hard into the bed, and then he was losing himself in a silken orgasm which spurted freely over Severus’ hand and had him moaning the man’s name in rapture to the bedroom. Hearing his name hissed so lustfully pushed Severus headlong into climax and he buried his face in the neck he had been kissing, groaning it out into the sweaty skin.

 

“God, Severus…” Ron let his head drop forward and he groaned more as kisses were dripped over the exposed skin, some through his hair. “How do you do that?”  
“Do what?” Severus asked amusedly, feeling the tiredness immediately claim him and he needed to lie down.

“Make me come undone so easily?”

“Magic,” Severus laughed in his ear.

“I can’t wait until we can fuck again,” Ron moaned, moving forward to try and find his underwear which had been quickly cast off and then for his wand to clean the sheets.

 

Severus stayed slumped against the headboard, his breath short and hard to process.

“I don’t feel… it does not feel possible I will ever have that much strength again,” he muttered, a desolate mood crashing over him, and used the last of his strength to manoeuvre himself onto his side into the bed, facing away from Ron.

 

Ron heard the movement in the bed and gave a tiny sigh before he climbed back in. Despite the fact it sent a cacophony of stabbing pains straight through his head, he rolled onto his side, tugged his pillow across, and spooned up to Severus from behind, keeping a tight grip.

 

“I don’t care, Severus. I don’t care how much strength you have.” He kissed the man’s bare shoulder and tried to focus on shutting away the pain so he wouldn’t have to let go, settling in for another sleepless night.

 

***

“Oh you little son of a bitch,” Severus hissed, mouth falling open at the move Ron had just pulled on him.

“I thank you not to insult my mother in such a hideous manner,” Ron smirked, taking a sip of ale from his bottle. “It was all legit; you’re just a sore loser.”

 

“Do you know what I find sad?” Severus scowled at him, picking up his discarded plate of pasta, “Is that you are sitting in on a Friday night wiping the floor with an invalid. What kind of cruel, sadistic being does that make you, Ron, hmm?”

“You liked my cruel sadistic side the other night,” Ron reminded him sweetly after another mouthful.

“You whore that alcohol in front of me much longer and I shall ram it down your gullet,” Severus growled from behind his plate of virtually tasteless food. “Not to mention the takeaway.”  
“I’m sorry,” Ron groaned. “I just couldn’t take another night of nothingness. It tastes of nothing, Severus!”

 

Severus chewed, thoughtfully looking at him. “I don’t mean it, Ron. I am very grateful for everything you do.”  
“Wait, let me get a recorder,” Ron shot at him sarcastically.

“I always thank you,” Severus muttered.

“Yes, but sometimes the thank you is overridden by your extreme moodswings and bitter muttering. No point saying thank you one hour if the next you’re going to be muttering under your breath that you just want to live alone and wish you’d never come back.”  
“When have I ever done that?” Severus flushed.

“Last Wednesday!” Ron exclaimed, and then he winced and raised his hands to his ears. “God, Severus, I ache.”

  
“Stop drinking,” Severus looked at the bottle on the table next to their game of chess.

“Just this one,” Ron sighed, looking at the half-drunk bottle. “I wish it would stop, or the painkillers would work.”  
“You were very lucky.”  
“So it seems.”

 

Ron flashed him a nervous smile and then picked up his bottle again. He studied the chessboard and considered his next move, eyes narrowing over the black and white squares of the old board George had dropped round earlier in the week.

  
“This was my grandad’s,” Ron tapped the bottle top against his lips. “I had it at Hogwarts, I taught Harry his first games on this board…”

“Were you and your grandfather close?” Severus asked, his eyes on his food.

“Yeah,” Ron smiled at the pieces. “On my Dad’s side, Mum’s Dad died before I was born. But I can never smell pipe tobacco without thinking of my Grandad. He was ace at this, he was teaching me by the time I was three. Me and Charlie would play with him for hours.”

“I don’t really remember my grandparents,” Severus said quietly. “My mother’s side disowned her after she married my father, and his side were too ashamed of him to stay in frequent contact.”

 

Ron stayed quiet, Severus hardly ever talked about his family and as long as he wanted to do so Ron would let him, simply listening.

“They were very different to your family…I barely remember my uncles, Helen’s father… but then I went to school and my father died when I was sixteen, so…”

“That must have been hard?” Ron ventured, not looking up from his position on the floor next to the coffee table.

“Hard from the point of view that my mother fell apart without him,” Severus put his plate in his lap. “Not hard from mine.”

“You… non-existent relationship?”

“I doubt one could even go as far as to call it a relationship. He drank, he shouted, he hit. That was just about all he was capable of.”

“You were glad to get away to Hogwarts,” Ron remembered the things Harry had detailed to him.

“That was more of a home to me than my parents ever were,” Severus stared absently at the chess board. “Hurry up and make your move.”

 

“I am _thinking_ ,” Ron snapped, focusing on the pieces.

 

Thinking worked, because like usual, suddenly a pathway opened up on the board like someone had lit the squares for him. He moved his piece and waited to see if Severus would walk into the trap. He had expected an equal in the game, with a man such as Severus’ intelligence, but so far he had been disappointed –a fact Severus put down to his ailments.

 

“There,” Severus set his piece down right into the middle of the trap.

 

Ron flicked his eyes up at him from beneath his fringe with a positively wolfish grin, reached for his queen and moved her, licking his tongue around the edge of his teeth as he looked up again and said, “Checkmate.”

“I wish I had the energy to throw this plate at your head,” Severus glared at him.

“Slytherins are such appalling losers,” Ron got to his feet and smirked.

“Where’s my wand?” Severus growled.

“All the way in the bedroom, sadly,” Ron shrugged. “Oh, oh, what’s that? You want a victory dance?”

“No, no, we don’t need the victory dance,” Severus groaned defeatedly.

“You do.”

 

Ron set down his bottle and set upon performing the Victory Dance of Joy, which had been developed after he had finally beaten Severus at a game of Scrabble. It consisted of gyrating and copying amusing hand movements from the 1960s. All was fair in love and board games and Ron rubbed every inch of Severus’ generous nose in his victory.

 

“Fucking Gryffindors,” Severus said contemptuously and went back to eating his dinner.

“You love it,” Ron slid his hands down the side of his hips, dragging his jeans slightly to expose more skin and the top of his pubes.

“Ah, see, if you loved me, you’d allow me the beauty of victory once in a while,” Severus stabbed his fork at him. “I am a beautiful winner, Weasley.”

“No, you’re a smug winner,” Ron yanked his jeans back up. “D’you want something to drink, Severus?”

“Wine?” The man looked at him like a hopeful puppy in front of a treat.  
“I meant of water, or juice?”

Severus glowered at him before sighing. “Water, then, if you insist on keeping me devastatingly teetotal.”

“I don’t, the healers do. And they’d take you away from me if I let you get rat-arsed,” Ron sighed as he walked into the kitchen, flicking on the light.

 

His eyes swept up the wall and then he screamed, loudly and girlishly, and leapt back, whacking his arm on the doorframe.

 

 _Calm, calm, remember the techniques…_ Ron breathed slowly in and out, trying to stop his hands from trembling.

 

“What?” Severus called from the sofa.

“Nothing,” Ron’s voice was broken and high, he swallowed desperately to try and combat his fear.

“Then why do you sound like someone has castrated you?” Severus raised an eyebrow, setting down his plate.  
  
“Spider,” Ron chewed worriedly on his lip.

“Are you actually serious?” Severus laughed.

“Shut up!”

 

Ron yanked out his wand and levitated the massive hairy beast crawling up his kitchen wall. He held it hovering whilst he edged closer, hand outstretched for the back door, which he threw open and then send the spider hurtling at speed into the back garden.

 

He kicked the door shut with a loud slam, setting his ears off, and then gave himself over to the usual bout of shuddering which followed a vicious spider attack.

 

 _Fucking hate them. Hate._ He shuddered all the way up his spine and into the base of his skull.

 

“Ron?” Severus called. “Are you still alive? Did it eat you?”

“Shut up!” Ron mumbled, flying back into the living room and throwing himself down on the sofa and bringing his feet off the floor.

“They are not actually able to kill you, you realise?” Severus raised an eyebrow, still unable to get over Ron’s fear of spiders considering everything else he had seen in his twenty-seven years.

“I don’t give a damn if they can’t kill me,” Ron closed his eyes. “They’re fucking weird and all hairy and…” he shuddered.

 

Severus was looking at him with a mixture of pity and amusement and Ron hated it. He had tried to explain his fear over and over to the man but to no avail.

“Aren’t you afraid of anything?” Ron burst out. “Spiders, snakes, rats,” he gestured a hand at the rat cage. “Loads of people are afraid of animals they don’t trust. Spiders are mine, Severus and I can’t… I… feel like I need to go and shower now, just because it’s been in my flat.”

“Have you ever sought treatment for your phobia?”  


Ron threw his head back and laughed. “Like fuck, Severus, they’d just make me touch one. I’d pass out. I don’t like passing out, it makes me feel weak and unmanly.”

“When it comes to spiders, you are,” Severus smirked at him.

“Don’t be a bastard,” Ron looked sulkily at the fireplace.

 

There was a sigh and a clunk as the plate was set down on the coffee table, and then Ron felt his feet being tugged into the warm confines of Severus’ dressing gown. He was thrown back to early Christmas Morning and a smile blossomed onto his lips, despite the shuddery feelings still creeping through his body from the eight legged intruder.

 

“You really should wear socks,” Severus commented. “Your feet are like ice and it’s July, Ron.”

“Bad circulation mixed with low blood pressure because of my height,” Ron shrugged. “Always been the same. Bill is like it too. Though Bill sort of goes blue and it’s not attractive, even less so after Greyback made dinner of him.”

“It is painful to look at,” Severus said bluntly.

“Yeah,” Ron laughed humourlessly. “Even worse when he’s your big brother who you’ve looked up to all your life…”

“He is very admirable,” Severus agreed.

“Did you really just say that, about a member of my family?”

“Yes… what’s wrong with that?” Severus frowned.

“Well… I just… never got the impression you liked us, and you...”

“I can’t admire a man who was Head Boy of Hogwarts, a curse breaker and fought through the war, has a beautiful wife and children he loves?”  


Ron fell silent and looked at the fire, his mind full of thoughts he did not know how to voice.  
“Is that what you wanted, Severus?”  
“I never wanted to be a curse breaker… too dangerous, I was a Slytherin after all.”  
“But the rest?” Ron reached for his bottle again and raised it to his lips.  
“Maybe once. But after she died I never believed I would find happiness.”  
“Is that why you were bisexual?” Ron closed one eye to look down the neck at how much alcohol he had left.

“No, I think that started at school.”  
“Not surprised, in a boarding school it’s bound to happen.”

“It never happened to you,” Severus looked at him. “What was it, Lavender Brown vs. Granger for your last year?”

“Oh god, don’t,” Ron screwed up his face. “Let’s just say I think my taste in men is infinitely better than women, yes?”

 

“Matter of opinion, I am no catch,” Severus snorted.  
“ _That’s_ a matter of opinion,” Ron carried off his low, sarcastic drawl to the tee.

“Are you mocking me, Weasley?”

“I love it when you call me by my last name, so filthy,” Ron sighed.

 

Severus chuckled and then stifled a yawn.  
“Tired?” Ron finally looked at him, seeing the paleness in his skin and the way his eyes had lost their shimmer.  
“Not too tired for another game if you want to set them up,” he gestured at the board.

“Look, Severus, I’m a big boy, I can entertain myself on a Friday night if you want to go to bed,” Ron looked pointedly at him. “I understand, you’re ill and you’re sleepy. It screams ‘go to bed’ at me. Hell, if I were you, I wouldn’t get up.”

 

“Ron, I might not be the funnest of roommates but I can withstand a wild Friday night playing chess,” Severus’ tone was dripping with sarcasm. “If you give me one mouthful of that ale.”

 

Ron immediately handed it over; one mouthful wouldn’t do any harm. Severus took it from him and Ron smiled at the way their fingers brushed together.

 

“I suppose it’s a good sign that seven months later your touch still sends sparks through me?”

“The romantics of the world would say so,” Severus scoffed.

“But you don’t?” Ron raised an eyebrow.

 

“I would not presume to be so sentimental,” Severus looked sideways at him. “You know me, Ron.”  
“Well when you’re in the middle of an orgasm you’re pretty sentimental,” Ron reasoned.  
“Men have promised the world in the middle of an orgasm.”

“Would you promise me that?” Ron smiled, flexing his toes against Severus through the t-shirt he wore.

“I would not promise what I could not give, I have always been depressingly realistic,” Severus sighed.

“I promised her happiness,” Ron turned his head and looked into the flames. “It was part of our vows.”

“You wrote your own?” Severus asked, feeling uncomfortable asking about the wedding that never was.  
“Oh yeah,” Ron frowned, keeping his eyes on the flickering amber. “Everything was us. She wanted the ceremony to be personal to us and I agreed, actually.”  
“It is not common in a wizarding ceremony to have vows at all?”

“I know,” Ron nodded. “But Hermione was muggle-born, and she wanted to include her parents in the format of the ceremony, so she included some muggle elements. And muggles promise all sorts. Some women even still promise to obey their husbands.”  
“Am I right in assuming that she vetoed that immediately?”

 

Ron threw his head back and laughed. “If she hadn’t’ve I would have. I never wanted her to be some perfect wife, cooking and cleaning and sprouting children.”

“Did you want children?” Severus asked interestedly.

“I guess, who doesn’t?” Ron shrugged. “I came from a big family but I didn’t expect her to reproduce it. I know when I was younger I was a twat and she… she thought I was stupid. But I really didn’t want her to be my Mum. Christ, who wants a replica of the woman who’s spent eighteen years telling you not to leave your crusty pants on the bedroom floor?”

 

“I listen to you and realise what a lacking adolescence I had,” Severus leant his head back on the sofa.

“Ha, you get caught wanking by your siblings, your own mother, and see if you see the same way,” Ron snorted.

“I do feel for your poor mother sometimes,” Severus shot him a smirk.

“Oh yeah, lots of testosterone flying around and then she got Ginny and oestrogen flew into the mix and the poor woman was doomed.”

“I always wanted a sibling,” Severus cuddled the feet he held closer to him. “Though in reality I would never have wished my childhood on another, it was cruel enough that they had me.”

“Were you… well, planned?” Ron winced at how awful that sounded.

“No, I was the most god awful accident,” Severus looked at him. “If only they’d opted for abortion.”

“You hurt me when you say things like that,” Ron swallowed thickly. “Chess?”

 

Severus released his feet in answer and Ron clambered back down on the floor, righting the chess pieces and trying to expel Severus’ depressive words from his mind, but he found he just couldn’t.

 

 _Must be the fucking ale mixing with my medication…_ Ron cleared his throat. “Severus?”

“Mm? Black, I am always black, timeless and sophisticated,” he winked.

“No, I just… I’m really fucking glad your mother didn’t have an abortion,” Ron said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

 

He picked up his first white piece and moved it forward, not waiting for Severus to speak. He carefully studied the board as the man moved.

 

 

 

 

An hour later they were still playing and both were past the point of no return. The game had turned into a challenge and Severus was fighting with everything he had. He contemplated his next move and Ron watched his face work, noting the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue worried lightly at the corner of his mouth. It was quite possibly the most sexually attractive thing Ron had seen since he’d been introduced to wizarding pornography, and he was quite distracted from his strategy as he watched the glistening pink muscle continually poke out of Severus’ thin lips.

 

_Fuck, and I’ve only had one bottle of ale, this is ridiculous… fucking medication!_

He turned his eyes back to the board and realised that, despite his distraction, Severus was falling straight into his trap like he had planned.

 

_He said it, not me. If he doesn’t want to hear the words verbally then he can at least realise it otherwise…_

 

Ron made what he hoped would be his final move and held his breath as Severus leant forward to contemplate his own final action. He saw onyx eyes light up and positively dazzle as the final move highlighted the planned victory for Severus and he fought down a smile.

 

“I do believe,” Severus said smarmily, “That that, Ronald, is checkmate,” he slid the piece into position and turned triumphantly to him.

 

Ron made a show of getting onto his knees and looking down at the board in dismay.

  
“Wow, Severus, you’re right,” he said, widening his eyes. “You beat me.”

“I wish I had the energy with which to get up and dance,” Severus sighed dramatically.

 

Ron heaved himself up with the coffee table as counterweight, a strange smirk on his mouth that Severus did not recognise. He crossed the small distance between them and pressed their lips together, then pulled away, his eyes sparkling with something unsaid.

 

“You won,” Ron gestured to the board and walked away, Severus heard him push open the door to the bathroom. “I wonder what that means?”

 

“What on earth are you on about?” Severus frowned first to the board, and then looked round and saw that Ron had left the door open behind him.

 

The redhead was stripping off his clothes; raising the thin t-shirt up over his arms, soft muscles rippling as he did so. With his face obscured in the material, Severus took his fill of the creamy skin and beautiful freckles, pink nipples and hairy chest and armpits. Then the shirt was gone and Ron shimmied out of his bottoms in a way Severus was sure was devised to personally torment him. They fell to the floor and then his redhead was gloriously naked, reaching for the shower and leaping back as he always did to avoid the first icy drops.

 

It wasn’t until the body stepped beneath the steaming stream that Severus blinked and looked back at the chessboard, his winning move highlighted as if it were lit up.

 

His own words replayed in his mind. _‘Ah, see, if you loved me, you’d allow me the beauty of victory once in a while…’_ His eyes flew wide and he cricked his neck in turning back to the now-drenched body in the shower. The creamy skin and auburn thatch of curls at Ron’s groin were obscured by the misty glass of the shower door but Severus looked through them to the man beneath, something stirring in his chest that he had not felt for a long time, that he had not allowed himself to feel.

 

Eyes watering from the pain creeping down his neck and into the base of his skull, he turned away from the stunning view, only for his eyes to fall on the shelf holding Ron’s film collection. His eyes alighted on the colourful box of the tragic love story-cum-musical which Ron had warned would break his heart but Severus had claimed he was man enough to watch anyway.

 

_And in three weeks he has never let me forget that I was wrong, never stopped reminding me of the tissues we went through._

 

Lyrics rolled back to him and Severus swallowed nervously, thinking of their meaning, and flicked his dark eyes back to Ron, who was washing his hair, the surplus shampoo gliding down his skin.

 

His breath caught in his throat.

 

_This is not meant to happen to me. I am not the man this happens to. No._

Ron started singing in the shower, an old muggle eighties hit which should never be repeated. Severus closed his eyes.

 

_No._

 

Throaty tones reached his eyes and he let out a slight groan at their beauty.

 

_God help me._


	11. Chapter 11

“No, it was always so unfair being the youngest, I never got to be the mummy,” Ron sniffed with mock regret. He was sprawled on his sofa and George, Bill, Charlie and Harry were dotted about his living room, trying to entice him out for the night.

“And why being an older brother rocked,” Bill grinned. “I can remember when you were four and you were actually shit scared of me… I chased you out into the garden and then I fell over something… hit the ground and the stuff came off my face and you just looked at me, let out this growl of _rage_ which I have never heard come out of any other four-year-old in my _life_ and pounced on me.”

 

“Is that the time he kneed you in the balls?” Charlie frowned, trying to recall.

“I what?” Ron’s eyes flew wide.

“We don’t really need to bring that up,” Bill shot Charlie a glare.

“Oh, we do,” Charlie snorted into his bottle of beer and grinned evilly. “Did you know you hurt Bill so badly he had to go to hospital, Ron?”

 

Ron felt the blood drain from his face and his mouth fell open. “Bill… I…”

“You were four,” Bill flicked him an amused glance. “I don’t hold grudges. Unlike you, who wouldn’t trust me properly for years because of my stint as the mummy.”

“What I don’t get,” Harry looked at them all. “Is why if you were wizards you turned your brothers into mummies with toilet paper? Surely you could have used something better?”  
“Ah, but, Harry… there is nothing _quite_ like the look on our mother’s face when someone doesn’t change the loo roll after them. It’s even worse when she realises that there’s none left… at all.” George looked innocently at the fire, though his eyes were twinkling.

 

“Or when Fred learned how to charm it to make it disintegrate when it’s touched,” Ron poked George on the shoulder.

“Still one of my best money makers,” George smirked. “Which reminds me, we digress; I am offering to take you out on the razz with my accumulated wealth, little brother. Are you seriously telling me you’d rather stay here in this poky little flat than come out with us and get sloshed?”

“I think I am,” Ron grimaced, and got to his feet. “I have apparently crossed into the land of the old.”  
“Next stop pipe and slippers,” Charlie needled him.

“Shut up, Mr. I’m-Going-To-Be-29-Forever.”

“I am!”

“Funny that the birth certificate implies that you’re nearer forty now…”

“Look, are you asking to be plastered in bog roll?” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You might be twenty-seven, Ronald, but I could take you like I used to.”

 

“Bring it,” Ron pushed back the sleeves of his jumper and aimed a punch at his brother.

 

It was only then that toilet paper exploded out of the end of someone’s wand and landed over his head.

“Guys, no-” he wobbled but firm hands held him tight. “I was joking; I don’t need to know what I missed in my youth!”

 

But it was very clear that he wasn’t going to escape and he was then subjected to a vicious tickling assault. “Fuck off, knobs!” He cried with laughter, trying to wriggle away from whoever was holding him. “Noooooo!” he sobbed playfully, his ears spiking with pain but he ignored it. “Seriously I’m going to fucking kill you when I get out of this.”

 

_Yeah, if they keep laughing like that they’re going to wake Severus up and the mood he was in when he went for a nap was not the kind you want to provoke…_

As if on cue, Ron picked up the sound of the bedroom door swinging open, but someone hit him with an actual tickling spell and the only thing he could do was wheeze with laughter.

 

“What are you doing?” Severus looked over the scene in the living room with raised eyebrows. Bill had hold of someone wrapped in toilet roll, Charlie was shooting spells, George was creating an immense amount of toilet paper and Harry was trying to remain upright on the arm of the sofa, laughing.

“Toilet papering Ron into a mummy,” George said calmly, layering some around Ron’s face so his words were muffled.

“Fuckinbastardserghinmymouf!”

 

Severus watched with an interested expression as George finished and then Bill spun Ron in his arms three times and let go.

 

“Nooooooomphfuck,” Ron collided with the sofa.

 

“Do you do this often?” Severus asked with a small smile, leaning on the doorframe.

“Not recently,” Charlie laughed. “Ron was complaining that as the youngest he never got to do the whole thing and then he said he’s not coming out with us for the night, so we thought a little payback was in order. Did we wake you?”

 

Severus shook his head and watched Ron trying to free himself, but George had tied his fingers together. Taking a few steps forward, Severus reached and grabbed the tail end of one of the toilet paper pieces and unravelled Ron with a jerk, then tugged him over to the rat cage. Easing open the door, he tantalisingly dangled the paper in front of Peaches, who pounced upon it, and then began yanking it in with all the strength she could muster.

 

The room erupted into laughter as Ron was forced to turn against his will.

  
“Fuckingusedthestrongstuffyoubastardsssssss!”

“Yeah that’ll never break, it’s a new trick one I’m developing for Christmas,” George beamed. “You know, catch all the Christmas over eaters with toilet roll that doesn’t break off.”  
“You are positively cruel,” Severus stood back and folded his arms over his chest, his small smile blossoming into a grin.

 

Severus was glad that Ron’s face was covered so he wouldn’t start about the fact that Severus was not using his walking stick.

 

_Fucking thing. The only thing it is good for is for hitting people. I don’t need a blasted walking stick, I am no longer infirm!_

And Severus wasn’t particularly, but he wasn’t good for long distances or strenuous activity. But when the ability to walk had returned throughout August, he’d finally felt better about his situation. Walking meant he had some freedom, that Ron didn’t have to everything for him, and it was far better for them both to have the breathing room. But Ron seemed to have fallen into his role as carer far too easily and had the ability to be overbearing.

 

_Gets it from his mother._

Severus mentally chided himself for the rude comment and turned his attention back to watching the rats unravel the redheaded figure, who was clearly becoming quite dizzy.

 

“So are you sure you’re not coming out with us?” George asked again.

“Not coming,” Ron groaned, papered hands rising to his ears which were giving out with his lightheadedness.

“You suck,” Harry got to his feet. “We need to go, then, or we’re going to lose track of the time and become as old as him.”

 

“Bastards!” Ron cried woefully, not realising they had all left through the fire.

“Come here, you,” Severus smirked, reaching out and steadying Ron’s body in his hands. He unravelled what was left of the toilet paper without letting the redhead move and when his face finally came back into sight it was red and flushed.

“Fucking bastards,” Ron shook his head irritably. “Ow.”

 

“I think that is what big brothers are for,” Severus gave him a smile, and then lowered his arms to loop them around Ron’s waist.

“Mm, and I am a little brother and therefore I can swear at them until I’m blue in the face,” Ron swallowed hard. He turned sideways and closed the door to the cage, smiling at the sight of his rats buried beneath a veritable mountain of paper. “Should keep them busy.”

 

Severus kissed his forehead and then moved away, aiming for the sofa but Ron grabbed his arm. “Come and keep me company whilst I make dinner?” he smiled.

 

Ron turned and tugged him by the hand into the kitchen, flicking on the light as he passed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Severus watched as Ron did his usual pondering in front of the open fridge, tapping his fingers in the same rhythm as he did every night as he perused the contents.

“What d’you fancy?”

“You.”

“You say that every night,” Ron smiled to the inside of the fridge and yawned. “I cannot be shitted.” He slammed the door shut and bent for the freezer instead, knowing that he presented Severus with the perfect view of his backside and meaning to do so.

 

“You do nothing to change my opinion,” Severus leant back on the worktop and followed the sloping gradient of backside into thighs.

“I know,” Ron straightened again with a frozen lasagne in his hands. “Your gut up to this?”

“Why not,” Severus flashed him an eye roll and Ron moved to the microwave. “Put it in the oven to reheat.”

“Yes Mum,” Ron growled, and turned around to fight his scary oven. “I hate this thing; I swear it plots to overthrow me…”

“It is _so_ simple, but then for your mind, probably not,” Severus reached passed him and deftly turned it on and Ron muttered something under his breath as he bent to slide the lasagne in. “Pardon?”

  
“I said you’re an egotistical whore,” Ron grinned at him, running his hands back through his hair. “Who just loves to make feel small and stupid.”

“I like making everybody feel small and unintelligent, do not give yourself such high ranking in my priorities,” Severus answered Ron in the way he wanted to be answered.

 

Ron turned away to look out of the window in the back door, smiling up at the moonlit garden. With September came the changing of the season and he could sniff autumn in the air. After the lack of the summer they’d had it didn’t seem to make much difference, but the light quality had lessened and Ron felt as though they were standing on a precipice simply waiting to be pushed headfirst into winter.

 

_Kicking and screaming because we all know his moods are going to get worse when the nights draw in and the weather gets cold and we…_

 

“What’re you thinking about, hmm?” Severus was behind him, whispering in his ear, warm hands sliding around to rest over Ron’s stomach.

 

 _My ever growing podgy stomach…_ Ron thought bitterly. His ear injuries made exercise difficult. There was a time when the pounding in his head indicated a good run, the feel of the blood thumping around his veins made him feel that he had succeeded in keeping his body healthy. But the few times he had tried to run he had returned home in agony. And none of the Healers could tell him why he wasn’t well again, as they had promised the first day he’d woken up in the Hospital in June.

 

“Winter,” Ron murmured, leaning back into his touch.

“It’s only September,” Severus frowned curiously.  
“Yeah but from hereon in it’s just a downward slide, isn’t it? Dark nights, cold weather, saving for Christmas and stuff… nobody has any money, nobody’s happy… everyone wants to strangle the relatives left alive and mourn the ones that are gone…”

“Now that sounds unlike you,” Severus nuzzled against his hair. “Want to talk?”

 

Ron didn’t see how he could take Severus up on the offer when the majority of his worried and dark thoughts concerned him. “No, honestly… I’m fine, I just hate this point… you know?”

“Being stuck in here with me throughout the winter, you mean?” Severus asked quietly.

 

Severus might have been miles off his game physically but mentally he was as strong as ever and he wouldn’t have missed the way Ron seemed to be resigned to an uncomfortable fate even on his worst day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

“I know,” Ron sighed. “It’s just… I worry about you, and me, and everything, and money and it… my brother just offered to take me out with his money.”

“So this is a matter of pride?”

“Sort of. I guess I just got used to having the money, not having to worry… which is fucking ridiculous considering I grew up with barely two sticks to rub together.”

“I am sorry I cannot help you more,” Severus swallowed nervously.

“It’s not so much that I’m struggling, I promise,” Ron chewed his lip. “But did you… well. I had plans about where I’d be in life at this point, and when I got my job it seemed like that it would all work, and I was starting my savings and stuff… they took a hit from the wedding and recovered.”  
“But now they’ve had another hit and you can’t replace the money because of your extra expenditure?”

“I don’t see the cost of your treatment as a ‘hit’, Severus,” Ron said sharply. “It makes me happy to see you healing, so it’s not a hit at all. And you are far more to me than extra expenditure.”

 

“But I am still causing your anxiety,” Severus kissed his ear.

“Not just because of the money,” Ron muttered awkwardly.

 

Severus said nothing and looked up into the garden, seeing the way the trees blew lightly in the wind and the leaves made patterns against the bright moon in their lowered position.

 

“Why did you choose to remain here tonight?” Severus asked softly.

“Because I didn’t want to go out,” Ron shrugged.

“Liar,” Severus accused gently, and then turned Ron to face him, keeping his hands tight on the muscled upper arms. “Ron, you do not need to tie yourself to the flat whilst I’m in it. I can walk now, I can feed myself, I would be quite capable of tending to myself for a night if you wanted to go out and rejoin society.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Ron, look. Living in the bubble we have been is not healthy. I am fine with it; after all, I have several years of practice which even extends to before the time I disappeared. I was never a very social creature and I am happy to simply remain at home. But you are not, you are twenty-seven, warm and you have friends. You should not refrain from spending time with them.”

 

“You’re only saying that because if I don’t go out with Harry he comes here,” Ron’s lips quirked in a smile and he looked down between their bodies.

“I am slipping if I have apparently become so transparent,” Severus sighed, looking guiltily away. “Next time they ask, you will not say no, not for me.”

“Alright,” Ron assessed him with glittering eyes, and reached to brush away some dark hair from Severus’ eyes. “Next time I’ll go out.”

 

Severus gave him a smiling kiss and enveloped him in his arms again. The musky scent in the red hair made him shiver slightly and Ron smiled as he dipped his hands down and massaged against the man’s back, eliciting a groan.

 

“I learnt tonight that when I was a kid I kicked my brother so hard in the balls he had to go to hospital,” Ron whispered as they stood there.

“And he still talks to you?” Severus raised an eyebrow that Ron could not see.

Ron snorted his laughter. “I don’t even remember it, how do you forget causing bodily harm like that? I’ve been kneed in the nuts, it fucking hurts…”

“I have done it but never had it returned,” Severus admitted.

“Who’d you do it to?” Ron pulled back, his face full of teasing.

“I do not think you would benefit from such information,” Severus sniffed airily. “You should check on the food.”  
“Come on,” Ron needled. “Who was it?”

 

Severus let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Will you ever let it rest if I choose not to tell you?”

“Fuck no!”

“Fine,” Severus dropped his eyes to the lino and muttered, “Black.”

“No way!” Ron burst out laughing. “Why? How? What did he do?”

“Because he was an impudent bastard who picked a fight and lost for a change, and he curled up on the floor in a ball and let his friends get vengeance,” Severus growled.

 

Ron covered his hand with his mouth and smirked into it, trying not to let it reach his eyes. “What did they do back?”

“I am most certainly _not_ telling you that,” Severus turned away, the shutters falling down in his eyes and he left the kitchen, leaving Ron standing alone.

 

Deflating like a popped balloon, Ron leant onto the sideboard and folded his arms over his chest, looking back out at the garden.

 

_No, you never tell me anything from the past at all. Anything. You can’t fucking run from the past forever, Severus!_

“What did you say?” Severus asked him from the living room.

 

 _Uh, shit, what did I say? I wasn’t meant to be speaking._ “Nothing,” Ron called back and busied himself with the oven, and was surprised when Severus let it slide.

 

***

 

“You spend far too much time in here,” Kay muttered at Ron as she cast diagnostics around his head.

 

Ron said nothing and sat still, letting the witch cast her magic. It seemed more and more possible that nothing was going to help his ears and there was the unspoken suggestion it would never get better. That didn’t help Ron’s feelings about his work situation –technically he was now working from home, which he was. But it was the dull paperwork of the Auror HQ that nobody else wanted to do, and he wanted back in the office, to be back on duty and working with Harry. He was just waiting for the day when Harry turned up and said he’d been assigned a new partner.

 

 _And won’t that just be the merriest fucking conversation of all time?_ He glowered at the wall.

  
“You seem unusually tense today, has something happened?” The question was gently posed and Ron let out a sigh.

“Just worrying about money and work and stuff.”  
“You mean Severus by stuff, huh?”

“You got me,” Ron answered after checking the bedroom door was closed.

“I know he must be hard to live with… for all his fancy words he’s got the mouth of a docker when he’s in a temper.”

“I think he actually might have learned that from me,” Ron made a face at her. “He seems to have become, hmmm. What would he call it? Unscrupulous in his language choices since living with me?”

 

Kay laughed and shook her head at him, sending her chocolate brown hair flying about her face. Ron watched it fall and was reminded of Severus in its straightness. His Healer was an attractive woman, only a little bit older than himself, with hazel eyes and a beautiful smile. Ron was getting over his surprise that, despite her beauty, she did nothing for him. When with her obvious chest and backside, she once would have been exactly his type, now there was no type.

 

_Only him. And that’s fucked up because you can’t even drag out the balls to tell the man how you really feel about him… and you can’t hide behind the ‘my girlfriend left me three hours before the wedding and I’m hurt’ mask forever._

 

Ron knew he couldn’t because the mask was, nearly a year later, non-existent. Since June and Severus moving in, he had almost completely forgotten her, and the hurt, and what she had done to him. He had not seen her since the day in the hospital and the stories in the newspaper about her work and about her upcoming wedding didn’t cause stabs of pain through his chest at all. He didn’t read the stories, because he didn’t want to rub his own nose in it, but they didn’t hurt him.

 

“You’re far away today,” Kay prodded him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m done with you now. No change, but then you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Ron scrubbed his fingers over his eyes and got to his feet.

“Sleeping better yet?” She asked him.

“Finally,” Ron breathed. “It still never feels enough, you know?”

 

She gave him a sympathetic smile and filed away his chart in her bag. “Look, I know this is… you don’t want to hear this. But I think you need to come to terms with the fact that it might never change. I can sign you up for-”

“I am not going anywhere near the therapists,” Ron folded his arms over his chest. “Nope. And you can’t make me, I know my rights, don’t try!” He laced his tone with joviality.

“Alright, you stubborn arse of a man,” she sighed at him. “But if you ever do need to chat… there are people in the world other than him, you know?”

 

She jerked her head back at the bedroom door, which was still closed.

 

“But he’s who I want,” Ron swallowed.

“And if he doesn’t want you?” one russet eyebrow rose in question.

“When did you get so up on my love life?” Ron muttered grumpily.

“I’m just saying that you should get out a bit!” she protested. “In fact, look. Tonight is Friday, yes?”

“Last time I checked, the days all blur into one.”  
“Right there, Ron, is why you’re going to meet me in The Leaky at eight tonight. I’m calling it a therapeutic trip for your senses. I want to assess how you react in a public situation so that I can better treat your problem.”  
“Smooth,” Ron laughed at her. “You should get in contact with my brother George, you’re right up his alley.”  
“So, will you come out for a drink with me tonight?”

 

Ron thought about it but instantly the implication was there that it was some kind of date and that felt like he was cheating on Severus.

 

“No,” he shook his head and looked away. “I’m sorry…”

“Fine, then as your Healer, I order it,” she grinned at him. “What’s one drink going to do, Ron? And actually it’ll be a very interesting exercise for me observe you, it’s purely professional. Bring your friends if you want, if you feel uncomfortable?”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll be there regardless of what happens,” she assured him. “I have a social life, unlike you.”

“And maybe you should try not mixing it with your work?” Ron niggled.

“Nice try,” she slid her bag onto her shoulder. “So, tonight then?”

 

Ron simply shrugged and felt embarrassed that at twenty-seven he felt so unsure of accepting the invitation. _What in Merlin’s name happened to you?! Fucking hell._

She turned to leave but then the bedroom door opened and Severus appeared, shooting Ron an annoyed glance before he let the Healer pass him.

 

“See you both next week!”

 

Neither of them answered their medical team and Ron found himself confronted with an obviously angry Severus.

  
“What was that all about?” Severus glanced at the now-empty fireplace.

“Nothing,” Ron shrugged, instantly twigging that Severus had only caught parts of the conversation in the living room. “She says I’m spending too much time in here cooped up and should get out more.”  
“And that transmuted into asking you out this evening?”

 

There was a definite edge to the voice and glitter in Severus’ eyes which put Ron’s back up, and he folded his arms firmly across his chest.

  
“Well, yes, but I said no.”

“I didn’t hear you say that.”

“Well, I did but she’s better than George at cajoling,” Ron sighed and turned away.

 

“You aren’t going,” Severus stated as though it was obvious.

“Well, no, I didn’t intend to,” Ron pulled back the curtain and looked up at the street.

“Your answer should have been a firm no; it is rude to lead people on.”

“It’s not leading her on,” Ron frowned. “It’s not a date for fuck’s sake.”

 

 _Even though you stood there and thought the same thing when she said it,_ the voice in Ron’s head reminded him slyly.

 

“To be honest it does not sound far off such an invitation.”  


Ron turned and looked at him and was surprised to see an extremely pale face and even angrier eyes than before.

 

“Well, I’m standing here and telling you that it isn’t one,” Ron levelled.

“Even so, you are not going.”  
“Says who?”

“Me,” Severus pulled himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at Ron.

“Are you my keeper?” Ron half-laughed. “Who last night was telling me that I needed to go out more?”

“I told you to accept the next time your brothers asked you,” Severus shot with venom. “Not accept the first invitation you got from a pretty woman.”  
“I didn’t accept!” Ron cried.

“Well you did not say no, which was enough for her.”

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Ron frowned incredulously. “Severus, it’s not a date, I don’t want a date with her. Not my type.”

 

His only answer was the slamming of the bedroom door as Severus disappeared behind it.

 

Slightly bewildered he felt anger inject into his bloodstream as he stared at the wood.

 

 _Really? He wants to control me now as well as making me as miserable as sin on a daily basis?! Fucking bastard._ In a temper, Ron dropped to his knees on the hearth and chucked in a handful of powder. “Harry Potter’s Office,” he called, and prepared to make the first of a long line of firecalls.

 

***

Ron stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel hanging nearby. He found himself actually looking forward to the evening ahead now he had planned it out. After firecalling Harry he had hit George and then got them to invite others. He hadn’t been out for a while and it would be nice to just sit and chat without having to think about anyone else.

 

Severus had neglected to speak to him all afternoon and so Ron hadn’t bothered to tell him his plans, muttering bitterly about respect and courtesy. He knew that Severus was a possessive person, from his history, from the words out of the man’s own mouth, and from the way he kept a death grip on Ron’s hips whenever he could, even when there was nobody else in the flat.

 

Normally, Ron liked it, that someone wanted him with such ardent and obvious need, but he felt that Severus had crossed the line with the ‘you’re not going’ spiel that had played out earlier in the day.

 

_I’m not a child and if I want to go out, I will._

 

He reached for his wand and dried his hair with a hot stream of air, his fringe settling down to sweep over his eyes in the way that forever had Severus pushing it out of his eyes, but when Ron had suggested cutting it he had received a very long lecture on quite why Severus would never allow that to happen.

 

 _Can’t believe he actually sat there and made up ten points as to why my hair should be left as is…_ Ron looked at his reflection in the mirror and made a face at himself. _If he can sit there and make a list about my hair you’d think the man would be capable of speaking three words which would make everything better._

Ron knew that the words ‘I love you’ were severely overused and often uttered without true promise, but he also knew that both he and Severus had surpassed that point. Ron was just waiting for the opportune moment where he thought Severus would be open to the idea of being loved. He had tried spelling it out in every way other than actually saying the words but if Severus noticed, he never mentioned it.

 

_And that’s fucking stupid because the man has to be blind if he can’t see that I would go to hell and back for him…_

 

Ron always wondered if maybe that wasn’t quite enough. Severus knew his loyal character, and what he had done for Harry and George, and Ron often mused whether he did not count Ron’s loyalty and a proclamation of love suitable proof of his feelings.

 

He pulled open the bathroom door and let the steam escape and was faced with, as he had been all day, the closed bedroom door. Severus had been in there since their argument and didn’t bother with lunch, and now Ron needed clean clothes. With a deep breath he opened the door, holding his head high and the towel wrapped tightly around his waist. The light was on and he saw that Severus was reading.

 

“Evening.” The word seemed desolate and cold.

“Hey,” Ron returned, willing to give a word for a word if Severus wanted to make up for his overreaction.

 

Standing in front of the wardrobe Ron looked at his clothes and chewed on his lip, wondering what to wear. They were only going to the pub but it felt like a lot more was riding on the evening for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

 

He selected decent jeans and a deep blue shirt which wasn’t quite navy and somewhat metallic in the finish. Hermione had always loved him in it, saying it brought out his eyes. He stepped into the jeans and buttoned them, reaching for the shirt and throwing it around his shoulders. He turned as he did up the buttons and aimed for the dresser.

 

“Are you going out?” Severus’ voice cracked through the air like a whip and Ron hated that he jumped.

“Yes,” he forced himself to use the correct words and he glanced over his shoulder.

“With her?” Severus’ voice was rising with incredulity.

“No, with the guys,” Ron shrugged. “Harry, George…”  
“Where?” Severus demanded, throwing his book down and getting to his feet.

“Well, just out, I don’t know what pub we’ll end up in.”

“A likely story, we both know you’ll end up in the Leaky, as always.”

 

“It’s not for her,” Ron heaved a sigh and looked at him. “I just want to go out and have a bit of a drink, alright?”

“No, it is _not_ alright, not when you’re going out to whore yourself in front of god knows who.”

“Who’s whoring?” Ron cried.

Severus waved his hand at Ron’s attire and gave him a glare. “You never normally dress up when you go out.”

 

“Look, Severus, I’m not going to have this argument with you,” Ron found the strength from somewhere to say what he needed to. “I am my own person, you don’t own me and you don’t control when I go out or whom I do it with. Back off.”

 

Ron wondered quite how many people had ever told Severus Snape to back off in his life, but from the look of fury which flashed through the man’s onyx eyes, Ron was pretty sure it was a number he could count on one hand.

 

“How dare you?” Severus seethed. “You reel me in here with your looks and warm heart and now what, hmm? Bored so you are running off to find someone else?”

“Severus, you’re fucked the head if you can get that out of ‘going for a drink with the guys’.”

“In case you haven’t noticed the therapists trouncing in and out of your bedroom for the last three months, Weasley, I _am_ ‘fucked’, as you put it. And you are the only reason I put up with them at all.”

  
“Why?” Ron burst out, anger taking over his brain. “Why do you do it, you don’t change, Severus.”  
“Do you think for one second that I enjoy conversing with your droves of family, that I would not make myself do it if it were not for you? Do you not think that I wouldn’t rather skulk and hide and not have to speak to any of them, these people who know everything about my life and pity me? Don’t you DARE tell me that I have not changed! I have changed many things for you.”

 

Ron stared at him, listening to his words as they tumbled passionately from thin lips.

 

“Why are you bothering?” Ron swallowed hard.

 

Severus glared at him. “Oh, I wonder. Have you ever considered, idiot, that after all this time I may have developed feelings for you beyond just having a fuck every now and then, though only Merlin knows why?” he finished nastily, with a condescending sweep of his eyes up and down Ron’s form.

“There’s no need to get spiteful,” Ron told him. “I’m not going to stand here and be insulted, Severus, I’m going out.”

“You damn well are not, you’re staying here.”  
“Holding me a prisoner in my own home? How very gothic and twisted of you,” Ron snarled sarcastically.

 

“And that’s just it; it IS your home, isn’t it? Do you have any idea of the humiliation I go through daily?! I’m a grown man, and I have nothing to call my own and I cannot even walk down the road without an escort! Can you even _begin_ to comprehend how that makes me feel in your non-existent brain?!”

“You can leave whenever you want,” Ron’s heart was beating painfully against his ribcage, knowing that if Severus left him it might well break it all over again –and that was only in eight months, never mind the eight years that Hermione had taken.

 

Severus looked at him. “I might just.”

“Well don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ron gasped, the blow winding him. He shoved past the man and re-entered the living room, looking around for his boots.

“What, no loyal Gryffindor fight?” Severus sneered at him.

“Why would I fight for someone who clearly doesn’t give a fuck how I feel?” Ron shot at him. “I have done everything for you, Severus, _everything._ And you just chuck it back in my face. Why would I fight for a lowlife who does that?!”

 

Ron immediately regretted calling Severus a lowlife but he didn’t have time to apologise before the angry face contorted again and the mouth opened to spew what Ron assumed was more vitriol.

 

“I knew you were too good to be true, Weasley,” Severus shook his head. “What could you _possibly_ acquire from me, hmm? The aged knackered professor who gave you a few good fucks and helped you get over your broken heart? I am disgusted with my own foolishness and your hidden capacity for abuse that you retain –funny, all of those people seem to think you’re a good person,” he waved his hand randomly at the photo frame shelf.

“I _am_ a good person,” Ron jammed his feet into his boots and reached for his jacket.

“I once wondered what Granger had in her head when she threw you away like rubbish,” Severus continued, beside himself. “But now I have to see the woman had sense. What were you like behind closed doors, I wonder?”

 

“Severus, you know NOTHING about my relationship with her,” Ron broke and his voice flooded with anger again. “Don’t you dare speculate I was abusing her!”

“I did not say that,” Severus raised an eyebrow at him. “You jumped to a conclusion. Why? Guilty conscience? Or were you just worthless?”

 

Ron stared at him open mouthed.

 

“Well, I’ll tell you this,” Severus gave him a positively vicious sneer which contorted his face. “You are _not_ worth the humiliation I suffer daily. You aren’t even worth the tiny amount of joy _fucking you_ gives me, do you understand?”

 

The words hung heavy in the air and Ron’s jaw froze open in shock. He had always known that Severus had had a temper, and that his tongue lashings within the walls of Hogwarts were legendary. But to be on the receiving end of it, when he had come to love the man, and prayed every single day that he was doing the right thing by him, was devastating. He felt like someone had kicked through his chest.

 

“A-anything else?” he stuttered, willing his tear ducts to behave.

 

“Turning on the waterworks doesn’t work when I’m this angry,” Severus laughed. “And what are they if not just your own embarrassment at the truth?”

“It’s not the truth!” Ron clenched his fists. “I’m going, Severus, if you’re beside yourself you can take it out on anything you fucking want in this flat, except me, and my fucking pets,” Ron dragged his wand out of his pocket and cast an impermeable shield around the rat cage. “What you do when you’ve calmed down is your decision.”

 

He stomped to the Floo and grabbed a handful of powder.

 

“Do remember that I’m here, Weasley, won’t you?” Severus called after him sourly. “That I also live here before you bring home a nice little conquest to help you get over our argument.”

“Fuck you,” Ron choked, not bothering to turn round. _So he still plans to be here?_

_I should kick him out in the fucking street after the things he’s said to me._ The indignation was there but Ron had no real compunction to act on the angry thoughts. He loved Severus too much, even though at that point he couldn’t quite recall why, to throw him out.

 

“I will only stay here because you left me with no choice, you lost me my other residence,” Severus hissed at him. “So do not think this is any form of sentiment on my behalf.”  
“No, Severus, you’re not a sentimental man, I get it,” Ron swallowed hard and threw the powder in the flames. “And yet you still ask me not to bring anyone home. It’d serve you right if I did and fucked them right under your nose.”

 

He didn’t bother to wait for a retort; he called his destination and nearly threw up at the sensation of travelling combined with the way his insides writhed in agony at the words they’d just crossed.

 

***

 

Severus braced himself against the wall, gasping. In his mind he was questioning how everything had gone so cataclysmically wrong in just a day. He couldn’t believe the hateful words he had thrown at the man who had cared for him through his worst and given him more than anybody had ever bothered to give him in his life.

 

It felt like he was back to square one again, just like the day he had woken up in June, like the vitriol had ripped the healing holes in him wide open again and he staggered into the kitchen, unaware of where he was really headed. He bumped into the worktop and leaned against it, but his legs would not remain locked upright. He painfully slid down onto the floor, the handle of the cupboard ripping painfully down his spine as he went. His head hit the door with a thud.

 

_Why? Why did I… Godric he will hate me. And so he should. Oh, god._

Severus closed his eyes and tried to grip the floor with his hands but the lino was too smooth. It was just as well, he would only have ripped his fingernails clutching at it in anger.

 

He knew the ugly picture he painted sitting there; face screwed up in agony, mouth twisted in a grimace, and was glad there was nobody there to witness it.

 

_You should get up, get dressed and go after him. To hell with your privacy. He is more important than that. More important than anything._

 

Severus listened to the voice ranting over and over at him in his mind and very much agreed with it. But all his energy seemed to be melting out of his body and even his breaths were shallow. He knew that he was not moving anywhere; even though he _had_ to if he wanted to salvage what he had ruined.

 

***

Ron gagged and lurched over the toilet, closing his eyes to the vomit his stomach was expelling with such force it felt like his throat was being ripped. He knew the sounds he emitted couldn’t have been pretty and the men’s bathroom of The Leaky Cauldron had gone deathly quiet, wondering what was wrong with the completely sober man in the end cubicle.

 

He hadn’t even been able to get words out on entering the pub, even though Harry and George had called out to him, he could only lurch towards the toilet and cover his mouth with his hand. Ron retched again as his stomach clenched in fear.

 

_I can’t believe he… he accused me of… fuck…_

“Ron?” George’s voice cut through the hushed silence and he could only choke up another mouthful in response. He heard the door rattle behind him. “Ron, let me in.”

 

But still vomiting more than he knew he’d eaten that day, Ron couldn’t prise his fingers away from the edges of the toilet.

 

 _Thank fuck for continual self cleaning charms…_ The thought of what he might have been touching had the spells not been in place made him heave again and then George spoke louder.

  
“If you don’t open this door I’m breaking the lock,” the voice was riddled with worry.

“Can’t,” Ron gasped, his shoulders heaving with the effort to breathe.

 

There was a loud bang behind him as George popped the lock on the door and it hit the wall. And then Ron felt touches on his trembling back, heard the door shut and lock again, and then gentle hands pulling back his hair, longer than ever, on Severus’ request.

 

_He just let me fuck him… he didn’t want me… he just liked the fuck… oh… shit…_

 

“Ron, tell me what on earth’s wrong,” George pleaded. “Are you ill? Eaten something dodgy?”

“No,” Ron gasped in a break from retching. “Had a fight with S-Sev…”

“Bad enough to provoke this?”

“Bad enough that I don’t know if he’s still going to fucking be there when I get home,” Ron was wondering about the absence of tears from their transaction so far.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Only with his words,” Ron reasoned, keeping his mouth open to avoid locking the putrid taste in his mouth.

“What did he say?” George gathered the hair in one hand set the other to soothingly stroke in between his brother’s shoulder blades.

“That I’m worthless, that Hermione was right to throw me away, that I… I’m a b-bad person…”

“What the fuck brought that on?”

 

Ron heard the anger in George’s voice and swallowed nervously. “I don’t know… he’s… all day he was in a bad mood and my Healer this morning said I stayed in too much, she asked me out here tonight…”

“On a date?” George gasped.

“No,” Ron shook his head. “It… well I dunno. He thought it was a date but I never said yes anyway but we got in a fight and he acted like I did. He didn’t talk to me all afternoon acting like he was my keeper or something, George… and then I organised tonight and he went mental… accused me of whoring myself because I dressed up…”

 

“Whoa, little bro, what the fuck’s happened? You were both doing so well?”  
“It’s _never_ been well,” Ron insisted miserably. “He hates living with me, he hates that he has to depend on me and it’s made him resent me… I… Oh, God, George… I think I’ve…”

“Do you want me to go and kick his arse?” there was very real promise in George’s tone.

“No,” Ron shook his head, “No, don’t do that…”

 

“Nobody calls my little brother worthless, Ron,” there was steel in George’s usually light and friendly voice. “Nobody. Nobody gets to make him feel like shit. Nobody gets to make him heave his guts up in a fucking pub toilet.”

“Don’t,” Ron begged. “I… I don’t want to lose him George.”

 

Realising it had been a few minutes since his last retch, Ron straightened and George let go of his hair in favour of turning him around.

 

“Here,” George pulled out his wand. “Open your mouth.”

 

Ron complied and groaned in thanks as the gentle spell cleaned out his mouth and freshened it. “Thank you,” he said simply.  
“And here,” George popped a pastille directly into Ron’s open mouth. “Chew.”

“What is it?” Ron swallowed.

“Anti nausea,” George explained. “Right, now. What are you going to do? Do you _promise_ me he didn’t hurt you?”  
“I promise, George,” Ron said sadly, raising his hands and burying his face in them. “He just… flipped. Flipped like I remember at school except the things he said hurt a hell of a lot more this time round.”

 

“Why would he say those things?” George frowned. “I don’t get it?”

“I hurt him,” Ron shrugged simply. “I hurt him by making him feel things he didn’t think he’d ever feel.”  
“And what’s that?” a crease appeared between George’s eyes.

“Love,” Ron whispered miserably, his eyes falling to the floor of the toilet.

“Christ, Ron, really?” George exhaled and ran his hand back through his hair. “Really? And what about you?”  
“I love him,” Ron swallowed hard. “I don’t know if that’s fucked up or wrong or what but I’ve known for… I’ve known for a few months.”  
“Have you told him?”

“No, he never lets me in long enough, when he senses I’m getting close he shuts down and I… after tonight I don’t think I… want to try any more.”

 

“Do you love him, answer me honestly?” George said, his voice demanding again.

“Yes,” Ron blinked.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I left because I couldn’t stand the awful things he was saying to me.”

“Ron, come on, you aren’t a fucking pushover! Why the fuck didn’t you bellow back at him?”

“Because it hurt too much.”

“Well, that’s fair enough, but I don’t really think he means the things he’s said. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way his eyes follow you through a room… the way when your ears play up there’s this look on his face that says your hurt is his hurt. And as sick as it makes me, Ron… you are good together.”

 

“He’s too broken,” Ron shuddered suddenly. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”  
“I’m broken,” George shrugged wildly, throwing his hands up in the air. “Does that mean I’m never going to find love? Gee, thanks for the horoscope prediction, Ron. Give me something to live for.”

“Of course I don’t mean that,” Ron hissed at him. “But come on, George, I’m me, what the fuck have I got to offer someone as hurt and as _lonely_ and as mature as he is?”

“I dispute the fact that he’s mature after what you told me he said,” George muttered darkly. “But Ron, there’s a reason that you’re able to heal his aura. There’s a reason for that even if the stupid bastard doesn’t want to admit it.”

 

“I can’t do it,” Ron shook his head and wrapped his arms around his torso. “I can’t go back and let him say those things to me again.”

“NONE OF THEM ARE TRUE!” George erupted in the most passion that Ron had seen fall out of his brother in years. “None of them, Ron. You’re fucking amazing. You’re twenty-seven and you’ve saved countless lives, you’re handsome, you’re funny, you’re intelligent, you’re warm, you’re caring…do I need to go on?”

 

“If this bloke doesn’t want you mate, I’ll have you!” A random voice shouted out a few doors down. “Sounds like you’re a fucking knight in shining armour.”

 

“See!” George threw his hands up in the air. “Even nameless-man-eavesdropping-in-toilet thinks you’re a catch, and _he_ hasn’t tasted your Hangover Killer of Doom egg, bacon and sausage sandwiches!”

 

Ron choked a little on his laugh, but it didn’t extend into a smile on his lips.

 

“Seriously, Ron, if you love him, you need to go home and sort this out, now.”

“I don’t know how,” Ron muttered pathetically.

“I’m going to give you a slap in a minute,” George threatened and lowered his voice. “Because you’re not stupid, Ron. You let Hermione go and fair enough, maybe it was for the best. But are you going to let him go as well, over a fight, over empty words the poor bastard probably didn’t even mean because he’s just so hurt and confused about everything?”

 

Ron looked at the glittering assured eyes and at the colour which had sprung into George’s usually pale cheeks. He noticed the quick rise and falls of his chest and wondered just why his brother was getting so into the discussion.

 

“Do you want to end up like me?” George asked him quietly. “Ron, I’m fucked. I’m never gonna get a woman to take me as I am, am I? I’m thirty next April and I have everything I need –money, clothes, I’m rolling in it. But I’m not fucking happy, Ron. I have nobody. I lost my twin brother and because of that I can’t pull my head out of my arse long enough to find a woman to have me, except our mother. Do you know how fucking ridiculous that is? Do you really want that for yourself? An empty bed every night unless you fill it with a random face?”

 

“George, you have me,” Ron whispered crestfallenly. “You have me, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah well, you’re my brother and I can’t fuck you because they frown upon that in good society,” George’s lips curled into a smirk and he sprang forward and grabbed Ron in a tight embrace which didn’t help his queasy stomach. “Ron, I love you and all but you’re not a life partner, are you?”  
“No,” Ron conceded, his arms loosely hugging George back.

“I’m not saying that he’ll ever be the only one for you,” George assured him. “Of course I’m not… but I just think that when you walked into that pub as you did, there was more at play than just chance. Do you believe in fate, Ron?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ron admitted.

“I do,” George sighed and pulled back. “When Fred died, I should have been with him. But at the last minute I chose to pursue another group of Death Eaters with the intention of teeming up with him and Perce to form a stronger team afterward. I didn’t make it in time, did I?”

 

Ron shook his head minutely.

  
“If I had, would it have been me that died? Would neither of us have had to, because my extra wand would have prevented the fight that happened, would we have beaten them before the corridor exploded? I don’t know, Ron, I really don’t. But lately I’ve been coming to terms with a lot of stuff, and my guilt at surviving is one of those things. I just have to accept that it was what happened. Maybe thinking it was fate sugar coats it, I dunno. But it makes me feel better, so I believe in it.”

 

George pulled back and sank his hands into Ron’s hair, holding his head like Ron had been held by Severus many times and vice versa, once more a position adopted more frequently by lovers than brothers.

 

“You’re the best, Ron, the absolute fucking best. Don’t let him put you down but don’t let him chase you away, either. This is something higher, something that could be fucking wonderful for both of you. And if you don’t want to end up like me, I suggest you go outside, splash some water over your face and go straight back home to figure it out with him.”

 

Ron stared at his brother, who’s thin and prematurely aged face was alive with passion and vigour. The colour had risen further and his cheeks were clashing horrendously with his hair but his eyes were positively gleaming with the zeal of his speech.

 

And the main thing was that Ron knew he was right. “Okay,” he whispered, nodding his head nervously.  
“Okay?” George caught his gaze and raised his eyebrows, not releasing Ron’s head.

“George I can’t… thank you,” Ron looked desperately at him.

 

George released him enough to drag Ron back in again for another tight hug and Ron returned, squeezing for all his worth. He jumped when he felt a kiss press into his hair.

“Sorry,” George said immediately.

“Forget it,” Ron breathed, not knowing quite why but not caring.

“I sometimes forget you’re not him,” George whispered.  
“Why would you have been kissing him?” Ron frowned at the cubicle door.  
“It’s hard to explain, we weren’t… you know what, forget it,” George pulled back. “Your bonfire, Ron, and I won’t piss on it. Go and fight for your man.”

“Seriously, why?” Ron asked quietly.

George shrugged, colouring again. “It’s just… you have someone, who is your double, your best friend in the whole wide world, your brother, someone who is there for you no matter what and we never pissed one another off… and nobody can comfort you quite like he can. We never did anything… _dodgy_ , but…”

 

“I get it,” Ron put a hand up with a small smile. “And I don’t mind that you slipped up, it’s fine.”

“You’re a great person, Ron, and I want to beat him seven shades of blue for making you think any differently,” George licked his lips. “Without you, I wouldn’t be here. And I’m fucking glad I am because then there would be nobody to tell you to go home and sort this out.”

 

Ron nodded and stepped out of the cubicle, heading for the sinks. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw ghostly pale skin and bloodshot eyes even though he hadn’t been crying.

  
“Look, mate, _you_ looking for a partner?”

Ron opened his mouth to reply and then he heard George’s voice.

 

“No, thanks for the offer but I am well and truly for the other team.”

 

Smirking, Ron washed his face and dried it roughly with a paper hand towel.

“Good luck,” George walked by his side as they left the bathroom. “And if it goes… well. If you don’t feel safe in your place the door to mine is always open, ‘kay?”

“Fucking love you, George,” Ron gave him a manly nudge with his shoulder and George grinned.

  
“Get out of here, brat.”

“Going,” Ron grabbed some communal Floo powder and chucked it into the flames.

 

He shouted his address and steeled his stomach for the sensation, marshalling his words into an order. Stepping out onto the hearth he took a deep breath.

 

“Severus?” He called; proud of the way his voice didn’t waver at all.

 

But there was no answer so he had to call again. The flat looked exactly the same as it had when he had left it, and Severus’ coat was still hanging up by the door. Ron walked level with the kitchen. And then he was flying into the room and falling onto his knees with a resounding crack as he noticed Severus sitting there, slumped on the floor, head lolling back on the cupboard door.

 

He was thrown back to a memory from five years before, finding George slumped in exactly the same way of the kitchenette in the flat above Wheezes, but there had been one crucial difference. Then there had been blood everywhere.

 

“Severus!” Ron gasped loudly, reaching forward and taking the man’s face in between his hands. “Oh, gods, I will kill you if you’ve tried anything stupid, Severus, do you hear me, I’ll fucking kill you with my own hands.”

 

The words were loud and rasped and terrified, and when the dark eyes open and looked at him Ron nearly fell over in relief.

“I’m sorry,” Severus said immediately. “Ron, I’m so, so sorry.”

Pleased the man wasn’t dead; Ron still wanted an explanation about the floor. “What’s happened, what’s wrong, why are you in here on the floor?”

“After you... I think I may have expended all of my energy on bellowing poison at you, Ron… I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I did not mean a single world, I promise you…”

 

Ron wanted to swoon in his arms and say all was forgiven. But George’s words shouted through his mind and, taking a deep breath and remembering that he was not a pushover, he continued. “So why did you say them, Severus? They really fucking hurt. Everything I believe I am deep down, worthless, the reason my relationship with her broke up… you said it, Severus. You hurt me.”  
“I did it on purpose,” Severus closed his eyes shamefully. “I knew what would cut you deepest and I used it.”  
“Why?”

“Because I…”  
“I’ll tell you why, Severus, because you’re too _fucking_ scared of what I make you feel. You wanted to chase me away so you don’t have confront the feelings you’re afraid of. Well I’ve got fucking news for you, mate, you’re not chasing me off that easy. I’ve already let one relationship go this year and I’ll be fucking damned if I’m letting this one go to the shit as well. No, Severus, no fucking way.”

 

Ron paused for breath and Severus was looking at him fearfully.

 

“You _need_ me, Severus, whether you like it or not.”

“No,” Severus shook his head, a cloud of jasmine air puffing out of his hair as it bounced around his face.

“You do. You need me physically, Severus, and you need me emotionally –you need me to love you. And you know what?”  
“Don’t say it, Ron, please?”

“I love you,” Ron breathed, and crashed their lips together. “I will give you everything, Severus, I will give you everything you’ve been missing in your life. And I’ll give it freely. Let me love you, let me help you. You don’t have to pretend anything to anyone any more, and you don’t have to protect. You don’t even have to protect yourself, Severus, because I will never hurt you on purpose… I love you too much…”

 

He trailed off his confession and Severus’ breath caught hard in his throat at the feeling blossoming his chest. Whereas before there had been icy cold ripping apart the holes he felt, there was now an intense heat swelling within them, sending electricity down his arms and into his fingertips, through his gut and into his legs, all the way down to his feet.

  
“All we need for this to work, Severus, is for you acknowledge what I know you feel for me,” Ron looked at him hopefully. “After that, we’ll handle it together but, Severus, if you feel it can you just _say_ it, let me know if I’m chasing up the wrong tree… I don’t want to beg you to tell me you love me, because I don’t need that. I don’t need lies. I only want to hear it if you mean it and I… if you don’t, I’m not going to deny you’ll break my heart, if you’re not willing to try and stay and see if love comes later…”  


“Ron,” Severus began to speak but it was obvious the redhead was in full flow and nothing was going to shut him up.

“Everything about you drives me wild,” Ron breathed. “Everything. I’ve never felt this alive, Severus, never felt so…”

 

He trailed off when Severus placed his fingers over the moving mouth, his hand shaking.

 

“Thank god you came back to me,” he breathed. “I love you, Ron.”

 

Maybe fireworks were meant to explode, maybe a romantic orchestra was meant to crescendo out of thin air or rose petals were meant to fall from the ceiling. But all that happened was that Ron swayed slightly as the words hit him and Severus stared with burning eyes.

 

“You mean it?”

“I mean it,” Severus nodded with wide eyes.

 

Ron suddenly moved as though someone had lit a fire beneath his backside –he swung his leg over Severus’ legs and crashed down, straddling him, and then he grabbed the silken hair in his fingers and yanked the man’s face up to his and kissed him, tilting the head he held back so that Severus had no choice but to yield and open his mouth to Ron’s desperate tongue.

 

He plundered the wet space over and over, groaning his frustration and relief out all at once and Severus swallowed every noise, his hands coming up to run up and down Ron’s back, holding him tight.

 

“Say it again,” Ron panted when they finally broke apart.

“I love you,” Severus looked up at him.

“Again,” Ron closed his eyes and felt the heat flame up his body.

“I love you.”

“Again,” Ron begged.

“I love you,” Severus was swept away by the warmth in his chest.

 

Ron suddenly sagged and leant his forehead to Severus’. “Thank you, Severus, thank you so, so much…”  
“Ron, I am so very sorry for the awful things I said…”  
“It’s forgotten,” Ron insisted, closing his lips and running them down the line of Severus’ nose.

“I said terrible things, I called you a whore, and I accused you of…” his voice became choked and he cut off.

 

Ron looked into the older face and saw it screwed up in torment and fear. “I’m here,” he said, and then his mouth fell open in shock as what sounded somewhat like a howl choked out of Severus and he buried his face in Ron’s shirt.

 

Shifting his arms to cradle Severus’ torso, Ron placed a hand on the back of the man’s head and held it in place. He couldn’t hear any signs of crying but there was a ragged chest heaving against his own. They sat together for a good while before Ron felt a warm wetness blossom through the material of his shirt and he gasped in pain at the ceiling.

 

_George said that it looked like that my pain was his pain. Apparently works both ways._

Ron stroked his hand through the dark hair as the wet patch grew and grew. He didn’t give a damn that he was ruining a perfectly good shirt, but the one thing he _knew_ was that he would never, ever throw it away.

 

_Throw it away…_

 

The words floated through his mind and then he gasped loudly, remembering what he had forgotten.

“What?” Severus mumbled at him through his tears, keeping his face well hidden.

“Severus, there’s something I have to do,” Ron breathed, his heart almost bursting out of his chest. “Something I need to do _right_ now!”

 

He pulled back off Severus lap and jumped to his feet. Without looking down to shame Severus he raced into the bedroom, not bothering to put on the light. He yanked out his underwear drawer in the dresser and felt around, fingers groping over pairs of pants and socks and scratty pyjamas until they closed around cool glass. He snatched it out of the draw and stormed back into the kitchen, where he stooped and grabbed Severus by one hand, managing to pull him to his feet in one swift move.

 

Severus too was surprised with the ease at which he went, the way his limbs felt so loose and his chest so light. “What are you doing?”

 

Ron let go of his hand and turned to face him, holding up the object in his hand –a glass bottle of perfume. Hermione’s perfume. “I never threw it away, Severus. I could never do it.”

 

Severus’ watering eyes focussed on the ornate bottle and he swallowed nervously and looked back to Ron.

 

“C’mon,” Ron grinned at him broadly, and pulled open the back door. He half-dragged Severus up into the garden and looked up at the darkened windows of the flats above them. Then he lobbed the perfume bottle so that it landed several feet away in the blackened grass and pulled out his wand.

 

Taking a deep breath, he aimed, fired, and exploded the bottle into nothing but the satisfying sound of shattering glass. He ran an obliteration sweep of the grass to make sure that no shards had escaped to harm his neighbours or any passing wildlife and then let his wand drop to his side.

 

And with the silence that descended on the garden came a wonderful breeze which ruffled the few trees at the end of the plot. It lifted his hair and carried away the scent of vomit, tears and misery which littered his nose. He sucked each breath in with desperate need and felt the grin spread on his lips.

 

Then he turned round and looked at the man nervously hovering by the steps leading down to the apartment, one arm across his chest hooked by his hand onto the adjacent upper arm. The look on his face was one of shock and incredulity and Ron smiled at the way the moonlight above lit the sodden skin. He walked slowly and purposefully towards him, slipping his wand away so that he had both hands free for the moment when they met.

 

Severus caught him first, throwing his arms around Ron’s torso in an iron grip and Ron returned the action, his hands holding tight enough to bruise.

 

“I am totally and utterly yours, Severus Snape,” Ron muttered, close to his lips. “But promise me you will never try to control me again.”

“I will endeavour to try my hardest,” Severus answered him earnestly. “You may need to remind me every now and then that at twenty-seven you are more than capable of standing on your own two feet.”

Ron gave him a smirk and a nod, and captured Severus’ lips in a kiss. He looked at him expectantly, not surprised when Severus faltered. Ron gave a gentler, more assuring kiss.

“I am yours,” Severus whispered. “Issues, history and torment all aside, I am yours.”

 

Somehow, despite the isolation of it all, despite the cool breeze sending a chill up his spine, Ron felt like he was partaking in the bonding which had been cruelly ripped away. There were no fancy words, nobody even official and certainly no guests, but it seemed more heartfelt than anything could have done in November the year before.

 

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Severus whispered.

“What look?” Ron blushed, caught out in his fantastical thoughts.

“That look where you are thinking deep thoughts you think I will not be interested in,” Severus kissed his forehead.  
“I was thinking how this was like the bonding I never had,” Ron answered honestly, without the strength to lie.

 

Severus gave him a small smile. “About the only bonding I could ever manage.”

 

Ron kissed him in response, then took his hand and led him back down the steps into the flat, holding the door open for him and locking it.

 

Severus turned and looked at him with an anxious expression, as though he were waiting for the moment where Ron would turn round and laugh, say it was all a joke and shatter his heart. Ron said nothing, but took his hand once more and pulled him into the living room, dispelling the still remaining shield on the rat cage and turning off all the lights at the same time.

 

He turned into the bedroom. “Fuck me, Severus.”

 

If Ron had issued the same invitation earlier that day, Severus would have had to have declined. But it was with renewed purpose and strength that the raven haired man stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the redhead, stealing his wand from his hand and banishing both sets of their clothes to a heaped pile on the floor. He threw the wand at the bed and pressed his body into its naked counterpart.

 

Two hisses met the rooms of the walls as bare erections met each other, but then they were replaced by the muffled moans of a dominated kiss. Severus had his hands tangled in Ron’s hair, dragging his head backwards and Ron bent willingly, letting his tongue lazily lap out.

 

“I have only ever regretted one set of words more than how much I regret implying you were nothing short of stunning, nothing to _me_ ,” Severus whispered hotly in his ear. “The first remain the biggest mistake of my life. I thank you most sincerely for refusing to allow those which I spoke to you to become the second. I feel sure that the loss would have been so great they morphed into the first.”

 

Ron didn’t know where his legs went as they disappeared from beneath him and he found the skin of his back pressing into the luxurious duvet cover, still processing the man’s words –there was no doubt about the first great mistake in which he allayed to. Ron couldn’t believe that Severus would regard losing him in the same level of tragedy. Severus had hold of his wand because the dim bedside lamps flicked on and they were bathed in amber.

 

“I want to see you,” he explained and Ron smiled lazily up at him, stretching his body out on the cool metallic material. “And what a sight you make.”

 

Severus truly looked at him, a creamy expanse stretched out amidst a sea of teal, the only darkened patches around his head, beneath his up-stretched arms and at his groin. His penis rested deliciously on the blaze of curls and Severus took an extra moment to linger over it, his mouth falling open. Strength returned like it seemingly had not been in years, he moved on top of the slender body, pressing his hands to run over silky skin and adore every inch that he could reach. He lowered his lips to deliver the same praise, pressing gentle kisses to the softest parts on the insides of Ron’s arms, on his stomach, on his inner thighs.

 

Ron felt like he was nowhere south of heaven as the lips caressed him like he had never been caressed before. “Gods, Severus, please,” he begged as the lips skated dangerously close to his cock.

 

Willing to give his fiery angel everything he desired to make up for his sins, Severus kissed up the shaft until he hovered over the head, which he flicked his tongue against gently before sucking the whole tip into his mouth. Ron groaned and arched as one slim hand curled around the base and Severus’ tongue laved over his head, carrying away the pre-come already leaking generously from his slit.

 

Ron thrust up, not caring how close he already was to orgasm, he wanted his cock deeper in the wet heat and he picked up a rhythm, slowly fucking Severus’ mouth as he had been allowed to the very first time they had been together. His grunts escalated and he knew he should withdraw but suddenly firm hands pinned his hips to the mattress and Severus forbade it in one swift move. Ron had no option but to lie there as his climax spun nearer and nearer, winding the spring deep in his groin tighter until he could take no more, and the licking and suckling motions grew too much. He threw his head back and arched up.

 

“Fuck, Severus, yes! Fuck I love you!” He chanted to the room, squeezing his eyes shut as the come spurted out of him.

 

The lips disappeared from his length and reappeared against his own and when Severus thrust his tongue into Ron’s mouth they shared the taste of his come together, wrapped in tight arms.

 

“More,” Ron commanded, letting his tongue trace around his teeth as he looked up into dark eyes and dark eyes bore down at him, glittering with silent promise.

 

Severus reached for Ron’s wand and aimed the stretching spell at his lover. “I want to see you writhe and moan as it works at you,” he breathed, eyes lingering over the way the once sated cock twitched again with interest.

 

Ron had no choice but to obey as his legs wantonly spread at the sensation deep within him. He moaned with pleasure as it brushed over his prostate, heels digging deep into the duvet cover as it worked with more instance. Severus watched with unblinking eyes, unwilling to miss a single second of the pleasure he had wreaked upon the sensual body writhing in front of him.

 

He reached out and trailed a cool finger up the re-hardening shaft with a smile.

“Take me, it’s finishing,” Ron pleaded reaching for the finger on his cock and raising it to his lips, swallowing it right to the back of his throat and Severus let out his own moan of pleasure at the wetness.

 

Adding the necessary lubrication, Severus didn’t bother wasting time. Their conclusion was obvious and it felt much more like need than want when he settled between Ron’s legs and raised his legs up so that his thighs rested against his belly, his erection spread explicitly between them in a view which should have made Severus’ eyes water if he hadn’t been so hard and wanting himself.

 

“Wait!” Ron said suddenly. “Let’s… sit up against the headboard,” he threw his legs back down and scooted out of the way.

 

Severus did as he asked and spread his legs, groaning when Ron straddled him like he had on the kitchen floor. With a positively filthy grin he reached behind him. Severus expected to feel a hand guiding his cock into position but when none came, only the look of ecstasy on Ron’s face, it took him a moment to realise that the redhead had buried his fingers deep within himself.

 

“Fucking hell, Ron, what are you trying to do to me?” He whispered, and drew the porcelain throat nearer so he could sink his teeth into the skin.

 

Ron answered by reaching round and fisting his own cock with his free hand and Severus had to sit back and watch the powerful display of self-pleasure being acted out in front of him. Ron gasped and threw his head back as he performed, canting his hips back and forth, pushing his cock into his hand and his arse back on his fingers.

“Enough,” Severus ruled as he struggled to keep the lid on his climax. “You can… if you want to perform I have ample ways in which you can but now… I need to be buried inside you, Ron.”

 

Ron flushed with delight at the words and stopped at once, using the hand that had been within him to hold Severus’ slicked erection still as he lowered onto it. He slithered all the way down with a deep growl as the burn grabbed hold of him and then his head was back once more.

 

“Not going to last five seconds,” he gasped, hopelessly shifting up and down on the column impaled in his arse as Severus curled his fingers around the erection bobbing between them.

“Ron,” he breathed, bringing his other hand forward to guide his head forward. “Open your eyes.”

 

Ron did so and fixed his lustful gaze on Severus, a moan shaping his mouth open as he sunk once again onto the hard shaft.

 

“I love you,” he gasped, chest fighting hard to breathe with the emotion coursing through him.

“Sweet gods I love you too,” Severus captured Ron’s mouth and together they reached the pinnacle of their patience and came, moaning into one another’s lips, shuddering, limbs trembling, toes and fingers curling with satisfaction. Ron coated both of them in a thick layer of come and Severus thrust in long, slow movements into his arse, coming hard and deep.

 

Neither moved as they came down from their respective highs and stayed together, sweaty and exhausted, kissing like they were about to be dragged apart. Finally Ron’s thighs began to burn and he was forced to shift backwards, tumbling onto his back between Severus’ legs, his own unfurling so that they bent over slim narrow hips and he placed the soles of his feet onto the headboard, disorientatedly panting up at the ceiling.

 

He was barely aware of Severus moving to lie down on top of him, and he only moaned when fingers stroked through his hair to his scalp and began to massage. He felt too sated to be able to reciprocate and he whispered an apology.

 

“Never be sorry for your reactions during or to sex, remember?” Severus reminded him, nosing against his lips.  
“Of course, I forgot the cardinal rule of our relationship,” Ron laughed slightly.

 

They fell into silence and Severus rested his head on Ron’s shoulder listening to a strong heartbeat resonating within the nearby ribcage.

 

“I’m never leaving you,” Ron whispered suddenly. “Never.”

  
Tight arms hugged across Severus’ back and he swelled with warmth again.

 

“It makes me happier to hear than I ever thought it could,” he whispered back. “I am not a man to love and leave. You have me forever.”

 

Ron closed his eyes and held Severus tighter.


	12. Chapter 12

“Oh _yes_!” Ron threw his arms up in jubilation. “Fuck yeah baby, limited edition me!”

 

Severus looked at him with one eyebrow rising in disdain. “You are such a child.”

“But it’s all pretty and sparkly,” Ron grinned widely, flashing the chocolate frog card around in the dim lighting of the living room. “I _love_ getting myself in these things.”

“Mr I-Don’t-Like-The-Fame-At-All.”

“I never denied that I loved my chocolate frog card, Severus,” Ron winked at him. “I wonder how many I’ll have to eat before I find a sparkly you?”

“Sparkles are not benefitting to my complexion, darling…” Severus sighed snottily. “Not to _anyone._ ”

 

October 31st had rolled around quickly and Ron was enjoying himself ploughing through the sweets he had got in for no reason other than it was Halloween and he wanted them. He pulled a long jelly sour worm out of the box and lifted it up above him, lowering it into his mouth slowly and filled up the space with delicious sugary goodness.

 

“You know, the size of your mouth is astonishing,” Severus watched him with a slight frown.

“’Us’ ‘ealous ‘cos ‘oo can’ ‘ave.” Ron chewed through the tough sweet with difficultly, wincing at the way the sourness assaulted his tongue. “Ow.”

 

“I’m sure at twenty-seven you are meant to have learnt your lesson regarding those by now,” Severus smirked and snatched the bar of chocolate Ron had been withholding whilst the redhead was too busy panting to stop.

“No! Bad Severus!” Ron growled at him when he’d finally cleared his mouth.

“If you say that one more time I’ll thwack you round the blasted head with it,” Severus warned him, waving the bar threateningly.

“Nah, don’t waste good chocolate by getting _blood_ on it, Severus,” Ron snorted. “Sheesh, I’m not made of money.”

“I paid for this,” Severus reminded him.

 

It felt good to say that, that he had paid for something that they were eating.

 

“Only made possible because of the fact that Kingsley transferred the money which was transferred into your Gringotts account at the end of the war in case your family ever claimed your payout for dying, and don’t eat that now or you’ll be too full for dinner and then I’ll die of starvation…”

 

“I do feel as though I am a winner, cheating the system and spending my own compensation for death,” Severus smiled at him as he hovered near the window.

“Well there has to be some perks to coming back from the dead, right?” Ron laughed.

 

“Ah, see, now is this where you are tricking me again and I should answer with a ghastly comment about ‘I already have the biggest one, _you_ …’?”

“Oh no, you’re onto me,” Ron said with mock horror. “Anyway, are you buggering off to get dinner any time soon, I’m hungry if you haven’t noticed?”

“Not rotted your gut completely on this junk then?”

“Not yet,” Ron replied sweetly with narrowed eyes.

 

Severus sauntered over to him and grabbed Ron from behind where he sat on the sofa. He kissed into his hair and hid his smile.

 

“You’re a happy bunny today, who’s slipped you something?” Ron teased quietly, reaching up and wrapping his hands over Severus’.

 

_Wonder if I’ll get those talented hands to give me a fondle later on…mmm._

“You know, it hardly encourages such cheerful moods when you comment on them like they resemble natural phenomena.”

“Well, yeah –Northern Lights, Severus Snape not moody… it kind of is, Severus.”

“You are extremely lucky you’re a respectable fuck, Weasley.”

“ _There_ you are, welcome back.”

 

“Oh do be quiet, slut.”

Ron sniggered and then his mind went back to thinking of the possibilities about what they could do later. They were spending Halloween night alone together with a pile of bad muggle horror films and alcohol.

 

Hearing a loud grumble from Ron’s stomach Severus sighed. “I swear to Merlin your entire salary must go on feeding yourself.” He straightened and reached for his jacket, eager to get out for a walk now he actually could without the need for an escort. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

“Go to the good one, not the one that looks dodgy,” Ron barked his instructions. “And don’t you dare order anything bad for yourself, Severus. I’m not spending three days nursing you back to full health again because something ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’.”

“Well, you know what the answer is, don’t you?” Severus zipped up his coat. “Get off your idle rear and get dinner yourself if you want to control what I eat.”

 

Ron tossed him a v-sign in the air and muttered playfully under his breath, he heard Severus’ laugh and then the door swing open and close. The room fell to silence and he looked peacefully around it. The fire was crackling and the room was beautifully warm. It took him a while to recognise that he was randomly smiling for no reason, and he only did that because his face began to ache.

 

 _Fucking love my life._ He stretched his arms up to rest them behind his head. _Love him, love this place… clearly it’s all too good to be true._

 

As if on cue the Floo dinged and he jumped, but it was only Harry, whom he accepted.

“C’mon, Teddy,” Harry’s voice preceded him.

 

A second later there was a very sooty nine-year-old on his hearth and Ron flew out of his seat.

“Teddy, Godric’s balls it’s been ages since I saw you! You just keep growing!”

 

The smiling boy leapt off the fireplace and bundled himself at Ron. Harry arrived a second later and looked at them both.

“’Kay, Tedster, why is your Uncle Harry dressed like that?”

“Don’t call me that!” Teddy griped and threw himself backwards, scowling, before turning and bounding to the rat cage.

 

“What d’you think of my costume then, hmm?” Harry threw his arms out.  
“What are you?” Ron screwed up his face in contemplation.

“That guy that tap dances from Chicago… you should see Gin, she’s all dolled up in this little sexy glimmering sheath thing and fishnets…”

“That’s my _sister_ ,” Ron snorted and got to his feet.

“Where’s our resident grumpy bastard?” Harry looked around for Severus. “Thought for sure he’d have something to say about this.”

 

“Can I have sweets?” Teddy spotted the open box of goodies on the table.

“Yeah, go for it Tedster,” Ron smirked. “Don’t tell your Gran that it was me though or she’ll be chasing my backside again for getting you all hyper.”

“He’s staying at over at ours anyway,” Harry shrugged, his hat slipping slightly over his eyes. “For the party. Ron, are you absolutely positively sure I can’t entice you out of here for the night?”

“Don’t have a costume,” Ron grimaced.  
“We could make you one.”  
“Oh, yeah, no way am I going to be the tool in the makeshift last minute costume,” Ron snorted indignantly. “No, Harry, we’re fine here.”  
“Pleaaaaaase?” Harry whined.

“No.”

 

“Alright, I didn’t want to have to do this,” Harry sighed. “Teddy.”

 

“No!” Ron threw his hands up to cover his eyes. “Not going to work Teddy!”

“Pleeeeeeeeeease come to the party?” the begging was there and Ron just knew what Teddy’s chocolate eyes would be doing. Whether it was because of Remus’ wolf, Ron didn’t know, but Teddy’s begging skills were legendary –he just looked like the most adorable puppy in the world. It was something which they all knew was going to keep him in full supply of girlfriends when he got to Hogwarts.

 

“Mwahaha, you cannot reach me through the wall of hands,” Ron laughed.

 

“But I haven’t seen you in ages,” Teddy’s voice lowered which meant he had probably thrust his lower lip out into a pout.

“Well that’s because Uncle Harry’s a bad man who doesn’t bring you round enough, he likes to keep you all to himself so you don’t end up supporting the Cannons like me.”

“Liar,” Harry muttered airily. “Y’know, Ted, I think we’re fighting a lost cause here. Let’s go home and leave him to his loneliness… all alone… _lonely_ …”

 

The front door opened then and Ron snapped his head round to see Severus returning.

“Christ, did you bribe them to cook the food faster?” Ron snorted, extending his hand for the bag.

 

Severus’ eyes fell on the child in the living room and bit down his retort about offering sexual favours. His breath caught in his throat when he realised quite who’s child he was looking at. The nose, the forehead, the eyes and mouth were all so very similar to the placid features of the boy who had been his Potions lab partner at school.

 

“Is this… Remus’ boy?” Severus looked between Harry and Ron.

“Yeah,” Harry clapped his hands on Teddy’s shoulders. “I’m his Godfather, I don’t know if Ron told you that?”

“Who’s that?” Teddy asked interestedly. “He looks like that man in the Hogwarts book.”

“Well, that’s because he is,” Harry shot Ron a furtive glance, who shrugged. “But you can’t go around shouting that you’ve seen him, alright, Teddy? It’s a secret.”  
“But you said he died.”

“Well, we thought he did. And then Ron, being the superb Auror slash treasure hunter slash cowboy slash Quidditch star that he is, found him.”

“And now he lives here?” Teddy looked around with a frown on his face. “With him?” he pointed at Ron.

“Yeah,” Ron grinned at him. “That sit alright with you, dude?”

 

Teddy shrugged. “How’d he come back from the dead?”

“Magic,” all three of the men in the room answered and then snorted their laughter away.

 

“God he…” Severus took a step closer, blinking a few times. “Anybody care to explain the turquoise hair?”

“Takes after his mum, and you remember that Tonks was a-”

“I can change it, want to see?” Teddy cut in excitedly and Harry groaned.

“You shouldn’t show off, Teddy.”

“But it’s wicked,” Teddy protested and turned his hair to match the same shade as Ron’s.

“Very impressive,” Severus gave him a nod and Teddy beamed at him.

 

It was like looking at a tiny Remus and it really threw Severus off balance to see him. “You look very much like your dad,” he said quietly, knowing it might be totally the wrong thing to say but he was unable to keep the words in.

“Everyone says that,” Teddy smiled, flashing his teeth.

 

They all fell quiet, Severus still staring in a slightly shocked manner at the nine-year-old until Harry spoke.

“Okay, well, we’d best get back. Have a good night and don’t scare the crap out of yourselves…”

“As if,” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Is ‘Arachnophobia’ anywhere in that pile?” Harry asked Severus casually, who chuckled and threw Ron a smirk.

“Get out of my flat!” Ron shuddered. “Tedster dude, come and give me a hug goodbye. How about we go flying soon?”

“Yeah!” Teddy gave him an enthusiastic squeeze and then bounded back to Harry, slipping his hand into the sweet box again as he went. “Bye,” he waved at Severus.

“Nice to meet you,” Severus managed a small smile for him.

“Have a good night,” Harry called back, his hat slipping lopsided.

“Potter, you look ridiculous,” Severus recovered himself.

“Yeah, Snape, but at least I can change out of it at the end of the night, you’re stuck like that.”

“Oh!” Ron cried playfully. “In the nightly game of cheap shots we’re at one nil to the faux tap dancer.”

Harry snorted and left.

 

“You alright?” Ron asked instantly. “You’ve gone all pale.”

“Yes, of course, I just… he really looks so very much like Lupin it was a shock, is all.”

“Mm,” Ron turned into the kitchen and flicked on the light. “He’s a nice kid though, very gentle and sweet, good with animals.”

“So he really does take after his father, then,” Severus commented, reaching into the fridge for some wine when Ron’s back was turned.

“He’s got a lot of Tonks in him too, he’s dead clumsy. Always in and out of St. Mungo’s for broken bones and fractured whatever. I’d be having harpies if he were my kid, I’m telling you.”

 

Severus leant against the worktop and pressed his wine glass to his lips, taking a deep sip before Ron could turn around and yank it away from him. “He’ll be off to Hogwarts soon, won’t he?”

“Yeah not long now,” Ron sucked some juice off his finger. “Oh, Godric, food. I’m so fucking hungry.”

“I swear you have worms.”

“You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that?” Ron snorted and turned to him, eyes alighting on the wine. “Oh you sneaky bastard, Severus.”

“This is the biggest feast day in our calendar; I’m not allowed a little celebratory drink?” Severus raised his eyebrows in challenge.

 

Severus was operating much more healthily, there was no denying that. He could eat more foods, move more, deal with more emotionally, but there was no doubt that Ron was still protective, too.

 

Ron glared at him for a while before sighing. “Fine, but if you’ve got a headache in the morning, Severus, it’s your own damn fault, and don’t bitch at me when you start about mornings and…” Severus cut him off with a kiss. “And I’m not making you breakfast in bed…” Ron groaned as he pressed up against Severus’ body. “Mmmphfuckit. Not now, the food’s getting cold.”

 

“You are so dull,” Severus sighed dramatically.

“Only when I’m hungry,” Ron growled, and picked up his plate and a fork. “C’mon. Blood, gore and stupid big breasted women remaining in the house when they should be getting out awaits us.”

 

***

“Oh, God, I can’t watch.” Ron was hidden firmly behind one of the scatter cushions normally resting against the arm of the sofa.

“Look at the big brave Auror now,” Severus remarked, taking a sip of wine. He was going to pay for it in the morning and he felt slightly tipsy after just one and a half glasses –whatever Ron had healed within him he had _not_ upped his alcohol tolerance.

 

Ron shuddered as there were ominous footsteps sounding on the television screen. “HE’S BEHIND YOU, YOU STUPID COW!”

 

Severus cracked up into snorting laughter and Ron threw the scatter cushion sideways at him, where it hit him in the gut.

 

“Stop laughing at me!” Ron growled.  
“Come on, you have lived through far worse than this, seen people commit far hideous atrocities…”

“That doesn’t mean that isn’t horrible,” Ron jabbed his finger at the screen. “Fuck it, no way,” he threw himself off the sofa and walked to the kitchen, his eyes darting around the room only lit by screen.

 

 _Yeah, fine, I’ve creeped myself out._ He shuddered and threw his arms about his chest. _No need for him to be such a bastard about it._

 

Ron reached into the fridge and pulled out the wine bottle, raising it to his lips. As the liquid filled his mouth, he heard a jerky scream from Severus and spat it all over himself, laughing.

  
“Oh, oh, Mr. Ex-Death Eater’s scared?” Ron threw himself back into the living room.

 

“Shut up!” Severus hissed dabbing at the wine he’d spilled all over himself. “Your Floo dinged.”  
“You were scared by the Floo dinging?” Ron raised an disbelieving eyebrow.  
“It is somewhat atmospheric in here,” Severus growled sulkily. “Answer the damn thing so I can get back to giving you nightmares with this drivel and act all manly when you are cowering into my side in the darkness in bed.”

 

Ron flicked on the overhead light and winced as his eyes reacted. He frowned as the Floo dinged again –whoever it was wasn’t announcing their presence, they just wanted access. Pointing his wand, Ron asked, “Hello, who is it?”

 

“Ron?” A female voice came back. “It’s me, Hermione. C-can I come in please?”

 

Ron turned to look at Severus, his jaw falling open as he went. Severus made a face at him and shrugged, taking a sip of his wine which was meant to say he didn’t care, but Ron could see the tension in his frame.

“Should be good for a laugh, at least,” Ron turned back. “Accept.”

 

Ron pocketed his wand and stepped back, folding his arms over his chest waiting for her to appear. When she finally did, he could tell immediately that she was drunk.

 

_She was always the most god-awful drunk… could never stay on her own two feet… the amount of fucking piggy back rides I gave I’m surprised I don’t have severe back damage._

Her face shone with tears, her eyes were red raw and her hair was somewhat messy. She looked first at Ron and took a step towards him but then caught sight of Severus on the sofa, who looked back at her with a glare of distinct dislike.

 

“Can I talk to you alone please?” she gave a little hiccough at the end of her sentence and Ron frowned.  
“Why?”

“Because I want to,” she sniffed.

“About what?”

“Us,” she motioned between them.

“What d’you mean, ‘us’?” Ron snorted. “’Mione, there’s not been an ‘us’ for…oh, wait, yeah, it’s a year at the end of November, isn’t it?”

“And Ron I… I made a mistake,” she sprung forward and grabbed the front of the jumper he was wearing, dragging him to her with surprising strength. Her breath smelt akin to a hundred percent proof alcohol and Ron couldn’t help his wince.

 

“First of all, let go,” He seized her wrists and pushed them away. “And second of all, if you have anything to say to me you can say it in front of Severus. He is, after all, my partner.”  


“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she shrieked. “You’re not gay, Ron! You’re not! I know you snogged Harry that time during Truth or Dare but you’d had half a bottle of Tequila! That doesn’t make you gay!”

 

Ron flushed red, having never imparted that bit of knowledge to Severus, primarily because up until the damning words fell from Hermione’s lips he had completely and utterly forgotten about it. But images flooded back of a dusty floor, being completely off his face and Harry’s warm tongue in his mouth.

 

_Fuck. I’m going to be in the doghouse later._

 

“Alright, no, that wouldn’t make me gay, but the things I’ve been doing since Christmas would,” he raised an eyebrow.

“No, Ron, this is… we’re meant to be together, I know it,” she sobbed.

 

Ron was distracted from her by Severus getting to his feet. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” he said quietly, and whether it was to rub it in Hermione’s face, or to show Ron some support, or to remind Ron of what they had now he was presented with a possible choice, he leant over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

 

Severus then swept out of the room without another word and Ron raised his hand to touch the slightly stubbly cheek where his lips had pressed to it.

 

“You can’t be with him,” she burst out, gesticulating wildly. “Ron, we were good together, we were… happy!”

“Until you told me to fuck off three hours before the wedding,” he reminded her angrily. “Which was a pretty damning end to the ‘happy’ part.”  
“I’m sorry,” she wailed, putting one hand to her forehead. “I didn’t… I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want to hurt you and I kept putting it off, changing my mind, telling myself it would be alright and then I just couldn’t do it, Ron, I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I hurt you so badly.”

 

“So why are you here, Hermione?” He asked her in a low voice. “What’s changed, hmm? Aren’t you getting married soon?”

“Tomorrow,” she whispered and Ron let out a growl of outrage.

  
“For fuck’s sake, Hermione, you’re getting married tomorrow and you’re in front of me asking me to what?”  
“Get back together with me,” she slurred. “I was stupid, Ron, so stupid. You’re all I’ve ever wanted since I was eleven and I just… I got itchy feet…”

“Oh, well, fine,” Ron threw his arms open, scowling. “All is forgiven.”  
“Really?” she gasped.  
“NO, YOU STUPID BITCH!” Ron cried. “How can you think I’d take you back after what you did to me? How much you hurt me?”

  
“I’m sorry Ron,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, I love you, and I’ve always loved you -I just got stupid thinking I didn’t… that I could… that I could do better. But you’re all I’ll ever need, Ron.”

 

“Hermione,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It was _me_ that could do better. I’m not being a bastard and I’m not saying it to hurt you –but come on. We weren’t working. I don’t know about you, but since I’ve been with another person everything has fallen into place which tells me that between us, it was… well it was pretty shit, Hermione! We’re not right for one another!”

 

“No!” She yelled. “We are! We’re perfect for one another!”  
“What about your new bloke, huh?” Ron changed tack. “What about him and his feelings, you want to run out on him like you did me? Do you have any damn idea how much it hurts, Hermione?”

 

“I’M SORRY!” She screamed at him. “What more can I say to get you to take me back, Ron?”

 

Ron frowned in dismay. “Hermione, what the fuck’s gotten into you? You said on the day of the wedding, when you left me, that you felt like you were ‘escaping’. That I was so useless to live with that you were happy to be shot of me. What’s changed?”

 

Hermione gave herself away by shooting a filthy look at the kitchen, and Ron’s mouth fell open slightly as realisation dawned.

 

“Oh I _see!_ You don’t want me, but you don’t like seeing me with Severus. You _don’t_ want me, but nobody else can have me _either_. Christ, Hermione. And when we were going out I prided my taste on the fact that you didn’t cut in for all that bitchy crap.”

 

“YOU’RE NOT GAY!” She yelled. “You’re not, I made you come, Ron, I tied you up, we did so much good stuff together… do you remember the time in Greece in the Jacuzzi?”

 

She launched herself at him and threw her arms around his neck, her breath almost making him lightheaded.

  
“I remember it, Hermione. I remember you getting off and leaving me hard in the water whilst you went to get more ouzo to give yourself the fucking courage to suck me off and then you fell asleep when you were inside!”

“It wouldn’t be like that this time,” she whispered. “Ron, I really do love you. Please, please…”

 

“No, Hermione,” he pushed her gently away and swallowed at the angry redness that flooded her face.

“You can’t be with him forever,” she spat harshly. “He’ll leave you, he’s just fucking you.”

 

_And that’s how I know she’s really off her face, Hermione never swears like that._

 

“Yeah, Ron, come on remember how much you like pussy,” she laughed at him. “You seemed to like mine enough.”  
“Because I didn’t know any better,” he shot back. “I’ve had enough of this conversation, Hermione. Get out of my flat and don’t come back. I don’t give a damn how you feel now, or if you’re just in a strop because it looks like you turned me gay. Get out.”

 

She swayed where she stood and Ron was seriously beginning to feel sorry for her, she looked such a state and she was obviously desperate.

  
“And what if I were to go to the papers, hmm?” she asked him suddenly, her eyes contracting with malice. “If I were to drop by and see dear old Rita tomorrow and just happened to let slip the ex-Death Eater hiding in your kitchen?”

 

Ron sucked in a sharp gust of air and made to reply but suddenly Severus was by his side, with his wand drawn.

“How _dare_ you blackmail him?” he hissed, face contorted with anger, and Hermione staggered backwards. “How dare you use me as blackmail to get him back?”

“It wouldn’t have worked,” Ron shrugged casually. “Because, Hermione, if you were so much as to even think about blabbing, I could get you fired, evicted and possibly arrested all in the space of about fifteen minutes with my knowledge of the spells you perform on the sly.”

 

Her mouth fell open in horror. “Y-you wouldn’t,” she raised a threatening finger.

  
“So, those spells you use on the House Elves that refuse to be freed,” Ron ticked off one finger. “Mind control is illegal under the new laws, Hermione, for everybody, even you, even if it’s for ‘their own good’. Then there are the forbidden dark wards you constructed around the flat in case any Death Eaters fancied a go… also illegal and against the flat contract,” he ticked off his middle finger, “And then if I really wanted to stick the knife in your back I’d tell them all about the fact you actively practice illegal dark protection magic involving prohibited ingredients including human blood, outlawed three years after the battle… by _you_.” He hit what should have been his ring finger.

 

“Please… I’d lose everything.”

 

Ron looked at her before sliding his arm around Severus’ waist and pulling him close. “And you go to the papers, Hermione, and I might lose everything too.”

“He can’t be your everything,” she whimpered. “He just can’t. It’s meant to be _me_.”

 

“You threw him away,” Severus said scornfully, and Ron practically felt the man’s bone structure elongate as he drew himself up to his imposing full height. “You left him alone and he was a wreck when I found him. You don’t shatter a person’s soul like that and then have the gall to come crawling back, woman!”

 

Silence followed his words and Hermione swayed again, and then she swallowed hard. “Ron, choose, me or him. You know it’s me you want, Ron.”

 

_For the love of God girl give it up!_

 

“Hermione,” Ron breathed. “Get a fucking grip. Go home. Sober up. Marry the man you loved enough to leave me for. And fuck off and let me live in peace with the man _I_ love.” He pointed at the fire place with a hard look on his face.

 

Her only answer was to burst into tears and grab a handful of Floo powder. “I love you, Ron!”

“No, you don’t,” Ron assured her genially. “Nor do I love you.”

“Well then can I at least have my bottle of Prada back?” she whispered drunkenly.  
“No, because I exploded it into nothing,” Ron said frankly. “And after every slice of hurt you caused me, I don’t think losing a £38 bottle of perfume you didn’t pay for really makes a fair comparison in terms of suffering.”

 

With a last lingering look at Ron, she left, and when the flames turned orange, Ron didn’t know what to do or say, he barely even remembered how to breathe.

 

He was vaguely aware of Severus taking him by the hand, leading him somewhere.

“Open up,” Severus tapped the stunned redhead’s lips with his index finger. “Head back.”

 

Ron complied and groaned when he realised that Severus was helpfully, oh-so-beautifully, pouring wine straight down his throat from the bottle.

 

“There we are,” Severus set it down on the worktop and Ron gasped, shaking his head slightly.

“Did that really just happen?” Ron breathed, looking wildly around at the room. “Did she just come crawling back to me and I told her where to stick it?”

“Yes, that is exactly what happened,” Severus cocked his head to the side and reached out to stroke away Ron’s fringe from his eyes.

 

“You… you stood up for me,” Ron swept sapphire eyes over Severus’ pale face. “You… for me…”

“Well, Ron, you were standing there doing the same for me,” Severus reminded him gently. “Relationships are a two way road, remember.”

“Takes two to tango,” Ron smiled suddenly.

“And one to start the fall,” Severus captured his lips with a hand sunk into his hair.

  
Ron groaned and leaned up against Severus, inhaling the heady jasmine scent pouring off his dark tresses.

“Fuck, love you, Severus.”

“Good, otherwise I’d say you’d really finally blown your chances with her,” Severus smirked at him.

“I hope she was just bluffing pissed about going to the papers,” Ron bit into his lip.

“I assure you she won’t,” Severus kissed his forehead.

“How do you know?” Ron frowned.

“Because I may have slipped into her mind and removed the part where she even threatened to do it in the first place…”

 

Ron’s mouth fell open in shock. “W-what? But you… your magic. You’ve been trying to get into my brain for weeks and you’ve not managed?”

 

“I managed it yesterday,” Severus blushed slightly across his cheekbones and Ron loved it when he looked that way, like he’d been caught doing something like a naughty schoolboy. “I know that yesterday afternoon you dropped one of the chicken breasts on the floor, washed it under the tap and used it anyway.”

“Meat is expensive!” Ron shot into defence mode and blushed his own embarrassment.

 

Severus laughed and wrapped his arms around him a little tighter. “I know that. I wasn’t passing judgement… merely saying I had been in your mind to unearth your dirty little culinary mishap.”

“What else did you see when you were in there?” Ron narrowed his eyes.

“I pulled out immediately, I did not wish to invade your privacy,” Severus said quietly.

“Oh, big of you,” Ron winked lecherously at him. “And you managed to wipe out her memory of it without saying a single word? Impressive.”  
“I have been known to be in the past,” Severus gave him a wolfish grin and kissed him again. “Now, Weasley, you’ve got some explaining to do…”

 

Ron swallowed nervously. “Ah, look, about that-”

 

He felt himself be shoved against the wall, a thigh between his legs, his chin caught in an iron grip and a hand gripping his jumper hard. “What did you do with him, hmm?”

“I had totally forgotten,” Ron breathed.

“You are in trouble,” Severus whispered near his ear. “So much trouble you will find yourself incapable of walking correctly for three days.”

“Oh,” Ron moaned as the thigh asserted pressure –he very much liked the sound of this particular kind of trouble.

 

“Now, again, what did you do with him?”

“Christ, Severus, you must have made a seriously fucking imposing Death Eater.”

“Well, admittedly I never strove to drag out sexual history from anybody then, but it may well have served its purpose…” he bit down hard on Ron’s neck, making him jerk.

“We were drunk,” Ron fought for the memories, growing embarrassingly hard in his pants. “Really drunk, Tequila –the one thing I truly can’t handle. And we were playing truth or dare, you know what that-”

“My adolescence was not so desolate that I refrained from partaking in the same games as you played, Weasley.”

 

His last name being spoken with such delicious contempt had Ron shivering from head to toe in the man’s arms. “Well someone dared us to kiss and I started to refuse and then he pounced on me…”

“And you allowed him to?”  
“It was a dare! And I was trashed, flat on my back and he’s surprisingly fucking heavy… it lasted about a minute and his breath stank of absinthe.”

“Did you get hard?” Severus whispered hotly.

“No!” Ron burst out. “He’s Harry!”

 

Severus gave him a smirk and pulled back, reaching to grab Ron’s hands. He tapped them with his wand and Ron nearly wet himself with excitement when he saw heavy manacles pop out of thin air and incarcerate his pale wrists into metal.

 

_Yeah not the time to piss yourself, Ron, even if it is with excitement._

With anticipation so heavy he was jangling all over, Ron felt his body be jerked away from the wall and then he was shoved forward so his view was of the kitchen floor and his own feet. Cool but determined hands reached around to unbutton his jeans and then they were yanked unceremoniously to pool at his ankles, his underwear buried within them.  One finger rested at the top of his cleft and then dragged straight down the centre through the heat. Ron wobbled when it passed over his hole and let out a gasp.

  
“What was that?” The steel in Severus’ tone was sizzling.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing what?”  


Ron faltered. “Nothing Sir?”

 

There was a dark little laugh and then a hard slap over his backside, followed sharply by another, and more and more until Ron was gasping hard and begging for it to stop, the pain causing his eyes to water.

 

“I thought you enjoyed being spanked?” Severus asked him, his voice calm but he stilled his hand.

“I do… I didn’t mean stop really,” Ron flushed hideously and looked at his straining cock.

 

Severus said nothing and the next sound was a resounding crack and Ron fell to moaning, wishing something, anything, was touching his dick.

 

“I think that was suitable enough punishment, don’t you?” Severus leant down and blew over the abused skin and smirked when that alone drew another moan out of the redhead.

“Yes Sir.”

“You know, if you’re going to call me that, it would at least be prudent if you were in some form of school uniform.”

“I have my Hogwarts ties in the wardrobe,” Ron gasped at the thought of what Severus planned to do with them.

 

He couldn’t contemplate further, though, because he was yanked upright and smothered with a kiss, Severus’ tongue delving deep into his mouth and raking over his teeth.

 

“Mine,” the dark haired man hissed dangerously and then he grabbed hold of the bound wrists and forced Ron to walk with his trousers around his ankles hindering his movements.

 

Ron staggered and crashed into the wall and Severus gave tut and turned around. He pushed the awkward body against the wall.

 

“Can’t even walk properly, Weasley, honestly.” His wand was back out and he secured the manacles to the wall above Ron’s head, and then nudged his feet further apart. “Do not move those, do you understand me?”

 

Ron gave nought but a squeak in reply and watched as the older man sank fluidly to his knees and sucked his leaking cock straight to the back of his throat.

 

It was possibly the fastest orgasm Ron had ever achieved in his life. Tied up against the wall, shamefully naked in his own kitchen, cock sheathed against a sinful tongue furiously writhing against the underside, he was gone before he could even get the words out to warn Severus.

 

He released with an animalistic shout and he thrust hard into Severus’ mouth, shooting come down the waiting throat as his orgasm ripped through his body and was cruelly gone as fast as it had arrived. He panted, sweat forming on his brow and let his head loll back against the wall.

 

“Fuck, Severusmph-”

 

He was cut off by the fact that Severus had summoned his school ties from the wardrobe, and one of them had gagged him efficiently. The other was looped properly around his neck and he wore it like a tie without a shirt because his jumper had mysteriously vanished. Severus had the third in his hands, running it between his fingers, dark eyes sweeping up and down Ron’s body.

 

“Hmmmmm,” he made a show of pondering. “And where should I put this one, I wonder? Where on _earth_ is left on your statuesque form to put this?”

 

Ron bit around the gag and groaned when his eyes dipped down and saw what Severus was looking at, his miraculously already re-grouping erection.

 

“Marvellous idea, Weasley,” he smirked, and reached out to loop the tie into a fairly tight bow at the base of Ron’s cock.

 

“There’s something wrong here,” he tapped his chin with a taunting finger, and then the wand made a re-appearance. “Ah, of course. Can’t have Gryffindor colours at a moment like this… the fact that you have been caught so wanting against a wall screams excessive Slytherin cunning…”

 

Severus flicked his wand and Ron watched as the ties morphed green and silver and the lion became the snake of the Slytherin house. He groaned as Severus reached forward and grabbed the tie around his neck. “Much better, Weasley. The green suits you…”

 

Deft fingertips held his cockhead and worked the foreskin.

  
“Wait here,” Severus instructed and then disappeared into the living room, which Ron could not see from his position.

 

 _Where the fuck am I going to go? I’m trapped, and I’m half naked, I’m fucking gagging for it, and my arse is killing me and…_ Memories of the spanking flooded back and he groaned, seeing a puddle forming at the tip of his bobbing cock as he remembered the hard feel of the hand slamming into his arse.

 

Severus was back in the doorway and looked down at his cock. “Tut tut, so impatient.”

 

He bent and swiped it off with his tongue, causing Ron to moan with want. His arms fell forward as the manacles came away from the wall and then he was being manhandled through to the bedroom, which had been drastically changed. Floating candles hovered in the air and sent eerie shadows everywhere. The duvet and pillows were missing from the bed and all that remained was a stunningly silky black sheet over the mattress. It was onto that which Ron found himself careening, and his skin glided over the material.

 

“On your back,” Severus instructed. “Arms up over your head.”

 

Ron complied and groaned when he felt the manacles connect to the headboard, tugging him upwards. He felt his jeans and pants dragged off his feet and then his ankles were flung far apart. He felt the cool metal enclose around his skin and then they too were secured onto the bed.

 

Trapped, naked, gagged and leaking heavily, Ron thought he might actually have died and gone to heaven. His eyes followed Severus as he moved to the side of the bed and began to strip off his clothes, letting them lay where they fell as the pale body was revealed to the amber candlelight.

 

“You loof fuffing amafing,” Ron breathed through the gag, his eyes falling on the erection demanding all of his attention span.

“I would say the same to you if you did not already know how positively delicious you look tied there,” Severus slid onto the bed and was over Ron’s body before the redhead had said a word. He ran his hands over his ribs and held them tightly.

“Ohgodmph,” Ron arched up as Severus’ thumbs brushed over his nipples causing them to harden.

 

“Trust me, nobody, especially not them, will help you now,” Severus smirked, then slid back and set to licking Ron all over again, dragging the flat of his tongue up the parts of his shaft not covered by the tie, and sharpening the tip to flick over the once again sopping head. “You really should control this, it could get you in an awful amount of trouble should you ever be instructed to withhold your excitement… I can charm this to get tighter…” he gave a prod at the material encasing the meaty shaft.

 

Ron groaned and arched up again, his body on sensory overload once more as it often was when Severus set upon him.

  
“When I think how I found you,” Severus sat up on his heels and reached into the air, curling his fingers around one of the candles floating there. “So scared, so fragile, so desperate to feel and not knowing if you were ‘allowed’. It was seeing you break those boundaries,” he moved the candle up so it was over Ron’s stomach, “That allured you to me the most.”

 

Ron’s eyes did not leave the candle, he knew what was coming but he couldn’t quite believe that it was happening to him. Severus caught his gaze and gave him a cruel little smirk. “Scared?”

 

Shaking his head defiantly, Ron was still coherent enough to notice a distinct lack of pain in his ears as he did so.

 

_Another improvement… well that’s good –OHOHOHOHOHOHMYGOD SEVERUS…_

 

Without warning Severus had tipped the candle and the scorching wax landed in a sexual dribble just above his navel and Ron’s stomach immediately bounced with his gasping breath at the pain.

 

“More?” the word floated in the air.

 

Communicating with his eyes Ron closed his eyes and let his head fall back, lifting his body into the air as much as he could to get the delicious pain back quicker. Severus tipped it again on the other side of the indent. Ron’s cry was muffled by the gag but it was louder and more desperate than the first.

 

“Where do you want it next?” Severus raised an eyebrow, surprised at the redhead’s willingness for pain. He had done candle wax a thousand times over, knew the raw sting it left in the skin. In all honesty he was incredibly surprised that Ron had taken to it.

 

Ron shrugged as much as he could with his arms tied above him and Severus laughed at him openly. “You should never leave such a dangerous decision up to someone as cruel as I am,” Severus advised him. “And this is your own fault…”

 

With a quick dash of his hand he sent the remaining wax in a thin trail horizontally across the bound shaft and Ron lost himself in his own screams and the pain.

 

_It shouldn’t feel this good, someone hurting me? It shouldn’t… oh…_

 

“I know it is confusing to hurt and yet want more,” Severus returned the candle to its elevated position then settled on his side next to the sweating, writhing body. “That is half the point of this, Ron, to not understand what makes you feel good but to simply enjoy it. Of course the other half _is_ comprehending it, but _not_ in the middle of sex.”

 

Whilst he spoke he wrapped his hand around Ron’s cock and stroked it almost lovingly, in a way that had Ron groaning continually behind the gag which was growing soggy from the amount of times he had randomly licked it.

 

_And I have no idea why licking it is making me feel hot and sexy but fuck it is… I don’t get anything… fuck…_

 

“Stop thinking,” Severus caught the pensive look on his face and abandoned his erection in favour of pinching down hard on a nipple.

 

“I know you feel out of shape because you have been unable to run,” Severus smoothed a hand over the wax adorned belly. “But I assure you that you are every bit as lithe and toned and mind blowing as ever, Ron. You are almost Olympian… so tall… I remember you being very gangly at Hogwarts… you filled out remarkably and perfectly in proportion…”

 

Ron muttered something indecipherable which provoked Severus to reach up and tug the gag out so he could speak.

 

“Severus I don’t need adoration, I need to be fucked,” Ron breathed hard, his mouth completely dry. “Please…”

 

Severus crawled up so he was on all fours above him and looked down, hair falling forward over his shoulders.

 

“Are you seriously telling me that if you were lucky enough to capture _me_ in such a submissive manner you would not have your fun?”

“Let me up and we’ll find out,” Ron smirked up at him.

“Not a chocolate cauldron’s chance in hell,” Severus shook his head, eyes narrowing with teasing malice. “I should flip you over and spank the hell out of your backside for such impertinence. And much longer and you’d be crying Weasley.”

 

Ron shuddered at the very thought, his cock giving a prominent leap upwards.

 

“Very much the pain slut, aren’t we?” Severus raised an eyebrow in shock. “You really are surprising me, sexy little whore…”

“Call me more stuff,” Ron growled.

“Stuff?”

“Call me a whore!” Ron threw his head back, grinning at the absurdity of his plea.

 

Severus was on fire inside that he had found someone so suited to his needs and he grabbed Ron’s body with impassioned hands, lowering his lips to devour the redhead’s mouth.

“I will call you a whore when you have earned such an attribute,” he hissed hotly into the shell of his ear.

 

The next thing Ron knew his arms and legs were free and he sprang to life, throwing both sets of limbs round the thin form to grapple Severus closer, all but flattening the man to his body. Immediately Severus ground his cock forward into Ron’s and they fell into a rhythm of rutting hard against one another, the heat spurring them to keep thrusting despite the lack of lubrication.

 

“I want to suck you,” Ron moaned loudly, the words carrying up into the bedroom and Severus groaned in response at the thought of hot wet lips wrapping around him. He rolled onto his back onto the satin sheet and spread his legs.

 

“Idiot,” Ron laughed, grabbed Severus’ wand and in two flicks had his hands bound and tied to the headboard. “I can’t _believe_ you fell for that.”

 

Severus’ eyes flew wide at the treachery and he growled out his next words. “Untie me, now!”

“No can do,” Ron licked the edge of his teeth and then dove with the speed of a swooping bird of prey and sucked Severus into his mouth.

 

He licked in short movements, never quite pulling his tongue away from the heated flesh and nibbled his way up to the tip where he was met with wet saltiness which contradicted the threats tumbling out of Severus’ mouth.

“If you don’t let me out of this right this second, Weasley, there will be hell to pay and I will take _every.single.inch_ of imbursement from your already glowing backside.”

 

Ron ignored him and flicked along his slit, breathing heavily to send hot air all the way down the throbbing shaft.

 

“If you don’t release me right now you will…. _Ah!_... learn the hard way why I’m dark and, _fuck it,_ twisted!”

 

Ron sent fingers down to playfully jostle hanging balls and then kept them going to stroke over rippled skin which clenched to his touch. He moved suddenly, ducking his head and slackening his jaw to take Severus’ entire length in his mouth and the man arched upward and yelled his pleasure to the candles.

 

_That’s got to be what, eight, eight and half inches? Jesus._

 

And then because he wanted to see what Severus would take from him, he bared his teeth and dragged them up the cock as he pulled upwards, snagging skin as he did so.

 

The howling from above him was more than satisfactory. He gave a wet French kiss to the tip of the cock and then sat up, wiping his mouth with a raised eyebrow.

  
“Let me up,” Severus growled.

“Or what?” Ron reached for the fallen gag and tugged it off his head. “You know, you’re far too mouthy, Severus. Good thing you gave me the ammunition with which to do something about that little problem…”  
“You dare put that thing on me!” Severus threw his head to the side but his arms were strung so tightly he could barely move and Ron had the material in his mouth in an indecently short amount of time. He reached for the wand again.

 

“So. Hmmmmm. A Gryffindor lion caught a Slytherin snake…” He tapped the wand against his lips, which were curved into a smirk every bit as devilish as Severus’ had been; he changed the tie back to its original hue. He left the others on his body. “You look so hot lying there, Severus, so fuckable…” he trailed the wand down the man’s chest and produced a hot trail of lubrication down the shaft when it reached it. He let it dribble everywhere and lubed up the man’s balls for no reason other than it would feel good. “But I think sometimes the tables have to be turned, right?”

 

He grabbed Severus’ legs and threw them deftly up over his shoulder, dragging the thin body half off the bed. He reached out and grabbed a handful of arse in each of his palms and dug his nails in, separating and kneading the cheeks.

 

“I’m not the only whore in the room, Severus… will you be a good little whore for me and come all over your belly when I spank you?”

 

There was a muffled whimper and Ron threw his head back and kissed along an ankle bone and dripped down beneath the arch of foot. He gave it a few teasing licks before he shifted sideways, pushing Severus’ legs down to his body and keeping them bent tight enough at the knee to keep him slightly lifted, exposing enough of his arse.

 

Running a large, smooth hand over his intended target, Ron turned back to look at Severus’ face and the man’s eyes widened with desire and shock realising that Ron wanted to see his facial expressions when he was struck, something that Ron had not had to suffer.

 

 _Cruel, clever sadistic redheaded bastard…_ Severus was nearly out of his mind with lust at the way Ron had taken control over him and, as a man who had come from far less than spanking in his time, knew he’d be dripping in his own come in possibly mere seconds.

 

Ron felt the power surge through his arm and he slapped his palm down hard, listening to the resounding crack, feeling the sting in his own skin and watching the way Severus’ face contorted in pleasure and he begged for more behind his gag.

“What was that?” Ron asked him in a low baritone. He smacked again and the shout was higher, more desperate. He saw the reddened, straining state of Severus’ erection and was caught breathless by the desperation.

 

He aimed his next strike dangerously close to clipping Severus’ balls and the man howled behind the tie-gag, tensed all of his muscles and spurted come up over his stomach and chest, almost sobbing at the release Ron had brought crashing down upon him.

 

Ron fell back on the bed, his mouth open in shock and his own heavy and unsated erection dipping down to leave a wet trail on the satin sheet. Severus was still gasping and mewling, his entire body shuddering. Reaching forward with a slightly shaking – _not to mention stinging!-_ hand, Ron freed up Severus’ mouth.

 

“You’d better know how to run fast, Weasley,” he spat ferociously. “And I mean fast. When I get my hands on you I’m going to bugger you so hard you’ll see stars and I fucking mean it…”

 

Ron couldn’t resist the provocation and he threw himself off the bed, nearly crashing headfirst into the wall in his clumsiness when the glossed sheets propelled him a little faster than he had intended. Grabbing the wand he made sure he was out of the doorway before he even raised it and then he dispelled all of the charms and legged it.

 

_This place is too fucking small! Fuck!_

 

Not that Ron really wanted to escape the promised fuck. He didn’t try very hard and Severus’ hands were on him in seconds, rough and demanding, forcing him to move under their will and the tie was yanked from his cock. He found himself thrown into the bathroom and over the sink where he was faced with the ugly reality of his sweaty red face in the mirror.

 

“I want to see yourself as you’re fucked, whore,” Severus hissed in his ear as two fingers, wonderfully slick, stabbed into his passage.

 

_Oh my sweet gods he’s never been this rough ever, oh god more… fuck!_

 

“More!” Ron choked out, grabbing hold of the sink and letting his head drop to look at the basin and there were immediately bites at the nape of his neck.

 

The fingers were plunging in and out of him without care or attention and soon they were gone and he felt the much blunter sensation of Severus’ cock pushing apart his arse cheeks and then he was breached, every bit as roughly as the fingers had moved.

 

His hips were encased in fingers cutting into his skin, surely bruising and he felt sore and abused already –but he didn’t care. Severus plunged the rest of the way into him with one more thrust and they both gasped, Ron doubly to the point because the movement made his weeping cock smack into the icy cold porcelain of the sink. Severus immediately latched onto the fact and held the sensitive skin to the glazed finish, rubbing it back and forth until Ron could take no more.

“Stop gods Severus please fucking stop…. Ohh.. ohhh fuck fuck fuck yes!”

 

Severus _did_ stop making him rub against the fittings but he replaced the sensation with an ungodly pounding which snatched every last particle of oxygen from Ron’s lungs and he caught sight of himself in the mirror, face twisted in lust, hair flying everywhere and he groaned in embarrassment.

“Look at yourself, whore,” Severus whispered. “Look at your eyes, look at your mouth, look how every single part of you begs for my cock to fuck you…”

“Fuck I can’t,” Ron looked away but somehow his eyes were drawn back to the mirror and he found himself fascinated in a grotesque way with the look on his face, the look which said ‘I am being thoroughly fucked senseless and loving every single second’. Sweat matted his fringe and he saw Severus behind him, equally red faced and dripping.

 

“What are you?” Severus asked him, prising one hand off his hip to grab hold of Ron’s erection again.

 

Ron couldn’t answer; there was no breath with which to do so in his lungs.

 

“Tell me what you are!”

“A whore,” Ron threw his head back as Severus found a new angle and thrashed his prostrate like a drum.

“Whose whore?” the words were low and dangerous and Ron knew then that everything had been Severus’ way of expressing his jubilation of Ron’s rejection of his ex.

 

There was no stopping the orgasm unfurling in the pit of his belly and Ron fought to get the words out as he was pounded from behind and he tried to gain control of his cock.

 

“Come for me,” Severus instructed. “Whose whore are you?”

  
“I’m your fucking whore!” he screamed in desperation, threw his head back and came for all he was worth, bucking his hips and holding his breath so that it came out in choked gasps when Severus continued to pound into him and he could no longer hold onto the air.

“Oh god,” Severus jerked off rhythm and then manically thrust into Ron’s body, losing his tightly held control at the animalistic grunts Ron had released.

 

Severus gripped tighter than he had ever gripped Ron before, unleashing the terrifying strength that he had always retained within his muscles which only ever rarely saw the light of day. Ron thought he felt a bone crack as the man thrust into him five more times, choking out his own words of shock and filth.

 

Ron locked his arms straight against the sink and knew he was right to have done so when Severus suddenly sagged against him, burying his face in sweaty red hair and breathing hard.

 

“Oh god,” he muttered. “Oh … you…”

“I am calling a new tradition,” Ron panted, closing his eyes. “Halloween Night is a night for _that._ I am going to be fucking bruised all over in the morning, Severus, and I don’t give a damn!”

 

He gave a hoarse cry of joy and fell to panting again. He pushed back and Severus clung tightly to his body and Ron knew what he was going to have to do. It was lucky he was in good shape, not that Severus particularly weighed much with not an ounce of fat on him. But he was tall and bones had to weigh something, Ron grabbed him around the waist as Severus flung an arm around his shoulders.

 

Pleased with how easily he lifted the weight on shaking legs, Ron carried Severus to the bedroom and let him tumble gently onto the silk sheets, where he instantly spread out and flung his limbs wide, still groaning in the aftermath. Ron curled up alongside him, one of his hands resting on Severus’ stomach and the other snaking beneath his neck.

  
They met in a tentative kiss.

“I need a lie down,” Severus whispered wheezily.

“Ungh,” Ron moaned, letting his eyelids flutter shut.

 

 

 

 

When Ron awoke, he was alone in the flickering light of the candles, still floating high up in the room. The smooth sheet was wrapped around him like a cocoon and he stretched languidly, throwing his arms out in front of him and his legs behind, really feeling the stretch in his midsection.

 

Then he rolled sideways and set his feet on the floor, pulling the sheet with him to wrap around his body, tucking it beneath his arms as he stumbled sleepily into the living room, which was dark.

 

“Severus?” he called out blearily, looking into the kitchen.

 

He froze seeing the beautiful sight in front of him. The light was off and the back door open, and Severus sat with his back to him on the doorstep, seemingly wrapped in an identical sheet, wine glass in hand, looking up at the sky, lit only by two floating candles. He didn’t appear to have heard Ron’s call.

 

Padding into the kitchen Ron shivered in the cool air. “What are you doing, Severus? You’ll get ill,” he said worriedly.

“There’s some wine on the side for you,” Severus said in quiet, content tone which filled Ron with glowing warmth.

 

He picked up his glass and moved to stand behind Severus who instantly shifted up and patted the space next to him, never dragging his eyes from the sky. Ron sat with the cold creeping up his bare shins. Taking a sip of wine he peered upward.

“You do get that it’s cloudy, right?” Ron whispered sideways and Severus’ dark laugh rumbled out of the little passageway and up into the garden.

“I wasn’t really looking at anything in particular,” Severus turned to him with a smile. “Just looking.”

“And thinking about…?” Ron smiled into the red liquid.

“You, of course,” Severus licked his lips.

“Must get boring thinking of the same person…” Ron nudged him with his shoulder.

“I was thinking how… what we just did. How it set me alight, Ron…”

“Mm, me too,” images flashed through Ron’s mind in a pornographic replay. “This cold step is really good for my arse, by the way.”

“Does it hurt much?” Severus turned to him, grimacing.

“I’ve had worse,” Ron winked. “But not from spanking, I’ll admit.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Severus murmured.

“Anything you want.”

“Why was it okay for me to call you a whore in the bedroom, Ron, but…last month when we fought it most definitely was not?”

“Because in the bedroom I don’t mind being a whore because it’s just bullshit, really, isn’t it? Just sex talk?” Ron answered truthfully. “We get carried away on how good it feels and being called that there make me feel sexy. But when you accused me of it and _meant_ it… that was very different. That hurt. It never hurts in the bedroom, it just spurs me on. Time and a place and all that.”

 

“You’re beautiful provoked,” Severus gave him a small smirk.

“And so are you,” Ron waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

They fell silent, listening to the sounds of the night garden settling in. The air was crisp and cool to Ron’s lungs and it purged him of the scents of sex and sweat which he had fallen asleep lovingly wrapped up in.

 

“How come we’re not still both asleep after such a marathon session?” Ron asked, taking another mouthful.

“I woke up, rolled over and you were lying there, looking borderline angelic… I was too awake then to stay in bed.”

 

“I missed you,” Ron looked down at the concrete step freezing his feet. “I can always tell when you’re not beside me in the bed and that woke me up.”

“Does it feel the same for you… that we have only shared a bed for the past few months and yet it feels like we have done so forever? I cannot imagine my bed without you in it now.”

 

Ron reached out and laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly. He took another slurp of wine and thought about the evening which had transpired.

“I can’t believe she came back like that,” he laughed suddenly. “I honestly can’t… or that she expected me to just take her back. Just proves that she really did think I was just a stupid prick, eh?”

“Thankfully I will not make the same mistake,” Severus took a mouthful of his own drink and looked purposefully up into the garden.

 

“She would have killed me if she knew what I plan to do tomorrow,” Ron exhaled.  
“Oh?” Severus frowned.

“I’m going to go and see Kingsley and resign,” Ron said thoughtfully.

 

Severus looked at him, Ron was surprised at the lack of shock on the pale face. “This has been a long time coming… even at Christmas, the very first night we spent together, you were considering quitting…”

“I figure if, nine months later, I still want out, I should listen, right?” Ron swallowed hard. “I know I’m restless because I’m not patrolling but it started before that… I suppose I don’t want to fight for a living any more, if that makes sense?”

 

“Perfect sense…” Severus nodded. “Just like I could never go back to teaching.

 

Ron nodded his understanding and fell silent, enjoying the brisk air.

 

“What will we do for money?” Severus’ voice was so quiet Ron had to strain to hear it.

“Well… George is always begging me to go and work with him. I figure whilst I’m finding my feet, hunting out something I _really_ want to do, he can use the help… it fits, you know? I know I can do it because I’ve done it before. His main assistant told him this week she’s leaving because she’s pregnant. And in the run up to Christmas it’ll be full on…”

 

“If that is what you want, then I will support you,” Severus assured him. “There are so many talents you harbour, Ron, you could do anything you wanted. Having seen you with Victoire at your parents’ I am tempted to tell you to take the teaching route… I doubt many men could keep a giggling seven year old safely upright on a broomstick without broken limbs ensuing…”

 

“See, I could do that… or I could go and offer my services to the Auror training programme, put them through the wringer like we were…”

 

“A world of possibilities at your feet,” Severus agreed.

“But if you don’t think I should resign, please say, Severus. We are a unit now, after all.”

“I will not be the burden, Ron, that stops you from following your mind to what you want, so do not ask me to be. This is your decision, and whichever you make I will be there.”

 

“I’m quitting,” Ron smiled up at the garden, with very little pause.

“Time to move on,” Severus reassuringly squeezed his hand.


	13. Chapter 13

“What in the name of Morgana’s tits is that?”

 

Ron spun round at the sleep-slurred language and laughed.

 

“It’s a Christmas tree.”  
“I can see that, but what I want to know is _why?”_ Severus’ snappy tone was marred by the sleepy yawn in his mouth and the tousled peaks of his hair.

“Because it’s Christmas Eve, and we didn’t have a tree. So I got one last night after I left the shop.”  
“What time is it?” Severus frowned.

“Errrm, about half past seven,” Ron shrugged.  
“Why on earth?”

 

Ron snorted and dropped to his knees, pulling the lights for the tree towards him. “Because I was up and I was kind of hoping to get this done before you came out here and got all bitchy about it.”

 

His only answer was the resounding bang of the bathroom door closing and he laughed again, the warmth of the fire washing over him as he looked at the plug.

 

 _Please work. Please work. I can’t remember how to wire a plug. Please work._ He grabbed the white object and slotted it into the wall and with bated breath flicked on the switch. The floor lit up in an array of pinks, reds, greens, blues and oranges and he beamed.

 

_Fuck yeah baby. Bet they break before I get them on the damned tree, though._

 

He looked up at the surprisingly convincing faux pine tree and grinned. He had been smiling since the minute he’d woken up that morning. Ron got to his feet, pulling the lights with him and began looping the string in equal circles around the body of the tree, coming back down to double up when he reached the top.

 

_Amazing how a string of muggle fairy lights can make me grin so much… George’ll be pleased I’m starting to show gay tendencies._

Ron thought back over all the conversations he had had with his family which involved them saying gems such as ‘but you don’t act like a poof!’ and ‘are you sure?’ Ron wondered quite what it would take to show Percy that he was in fact more than sure, but his suggestion of fucking Severus where they could be found had not gone down well, most especially with the man in question.

 

He ran out of lights and stepped back, appraising his work with a satisfied smile. And then, because he was lazy, he yanked out his wand and charmed the rest of the decorations to hang themselves evenly amidst the branches, and soon his tree was twinkling and glittering.

 

_Let’s see if I can keep this one upright…_

 

The bathroom door creaked open and he heard feet on the floorboards, but didn’t look round. Severus was undoubtedly not a morning person and Ron assumed that his Christmas tree wouldn’t even get a second glance until at least the third cup of tea.

 

“Are you going to spend every minute of the day sending this one flying?” Severus’ voice was low and teasing.

“You know, I think we should just let it go. If the tree had never fallen over, I would never have kissed you… and then who knows where we’d be this Christmas Eve, hmm?” Ron said haughtily.

 

Warm arms wrapped around him from behind and lips pressed into his hair above his ear. Severus rocked him slightly from side to side.

 

“If we have to have such an overblown demonstration of Christmas joy, at least it’s respectable,” he sniffed.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Ron snorted.

“There is nothing on the top,” Severus’ eyes flicked up to the tip of the tree.

“No,” Ron broke out of his arms. “I was leaving it for you, if you wanted.”

 

Severus laughed then. “Why on earth would I want to adorn the top of this counterfeit tree with a fairy? And not even a real fairy at that.”

“This is why you were a Slytherin, dear… fairies don’t like being captured and sentenced to a painful day on top of the tree,” Ron winked at him.  
“Don’t you _dear_ me,” Severus poked him hard in the ribs. “You know I do not celebrate Christmas, so if you want this tree up then you are decorating it yourself.”  


“I thought you were only a miserable bastard at this time of year because you had nothing to be happy about, nobody to share it with?” Ron picked up the aforementioned fairy.

 

Severus’ looked at him, sensing the dangerously sad note hovering in Ron’s tone. “Ron, I love you very much. But that doesn’t change years worth of ignoring the holiday the best I could.”

“Maybe you could make an effort,” Ron looked at the floor. “If not for Christmas then for what is _technically_ our one year anniversary? Or do you not celebrate them either?”

 

He turned and plopped the fairy on the top of the tree without further ceremony, and headed for the kitchen.

 

_Miserable fucking bastard! Seriously, it’s just fucking Christmas, and a tree… it’s not as if I’ve done the front up in lights…_

Ron wasn’t going to admit he’d toyed with the idea. He went to the cooker, giving the huge vat of mulled wine he had haphazardly made from his mother’s instructions a stir.

 

_Bet it’ll end up tasting like paint stripper… never mind, sounds like I’ll need it to get through today if he’s going to be fucking miserable all day… and we haven’t even mentioned the Healer visit yet._

Ron frowned into the rippling scarlet liquid, the scent of cinnamon and cloves wafting up to him in the rich aroma. He had been dreading Christmas Eve for a whole week. The Healers had scheduled the appointment to get it out of the way before the holidays, but it was clouding Ron’s enjoyment of the impending festivities. If Severus’ tests and assessment went well, the Healers would consent to only monthly visits down from twice weekly. They wouldn’t have been as willing to make such a big jump if Severus had not made such drastic improvements since September.

 

_I wonder how I can say ‘can you up the happy pill draught as a Christmas present, please?’…_

He growled at himself, knowing he was largely being unfair. Severus had adapted to living with him far more successfully since his health had improved to the point where he could leave the flat. And his moods were fewer and farer in between, though he was still cantankerous, grumpy and acidic on his best days.

 

_That’s just Severus, though… that’s the real him._

 

“Is that mulled wine?” Severus’ voice cut out from beside him and Ron jumped, lost in his thoughts.  
“Yeah, thought I’d give it a go,” Ron shrugged. “Probably tastes like shit though so don’t get your hopes up. I foul everything up the first time I try making it, as you well know after the Victoria Sponge Cake Massacre.”

 

Severus ignored him and grabbed a spoon, dipping it into the simmering liquid and catching some on the metal. Ron stepped away to avoid seeing the look of horror on the man’s face when his tongue was melted or something equally disastrous.

 

“That’s actually rather exquisite,” Severus swallowed. “Is it ready now?”

Ron smiled at the man’s code for wanting some then and there.

 

“It’s not even eight in the morning,” he laughed, turning round to see him having another spoonful.

“Ah but you should remember that it is _always_ five o’clock somewhere,” Severus winked but set the spoon down. “I suppose it would not do to be drunk in front of the Senior Healers.”

“No,” Ron smirked. “So really, it’s good?”

“Taste it yourself and find out,” came back dryly with an eye roll.

 

Ron did as instructed and was pleasantly surprised. “Not sweet enough,” he licked his lips free of the residue. He snatched a honey jar from the side and scooped in some more.

“I used to think that mulled wine was one of the only benefits to the festive season,” Severus commented, leaning back on the worktop and folding his arms over his chest

 

Ron didn’t comment and kept stirring the honey through mixture.

 

“I suppose this year I really should have been more thoughtful in how I reacted to the holiday, Ron. I apologise.”

“Don’t,” Ron smiled down at the pan, even though the apology meant more than he would ever let on.

 

Severus moved and put light hands on Ron’s waist, looking over his shoulder at the pan. “I don’t know what on earth I did to bless myself so lucky as to have you save me, you know.”

 

“All right, don’t go bloody overboard,” Ron snorted, again bursting with warmth on the inside.

“And I know I have repeatedly told you, Ron, that I am not a sentimental man…”

“Told? Try bellowed, on several occasions,” the red liquid received a smirk.

 

“And if you do not shut up and let me finish I will hex you so that you have no choice,” Severus squeezed his waist threateningly, and Ron obediently fell silent, though he couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face. “But I appreciate that you are very different to me, you have no reason to hate it as I have come to. I truly am sorry for not making more of an effort. I love you very much. Go and see what I have done to the fairy.”

 

Ron turned then, throwing him a curious glance and Severus simply nodded in the direction of the living room, stepping up to continue stirring the wine when Ron ambled off.

 

He walked closer to the tree and then burst out laughing. The fairy, who had been wearing a respectable gold dress when he had left, was now wearing a skimpy bikini in Gryffindor red and gold with a teeny tiny Slytherin tie of green and silver around her neck.

 

“Very mature!” Ron called back, still sniggering.

“I was going to turn her male but then my nose caught whiff of the wine and sadly I was distracted.”  
“And you say _I’ve_ got the attention span of a garden gnome,” Ron snorted. “Well I think she’s perfect, and now the tree’s bloody perfect too. You can stay if you’re going to keep that up!”

 

Severus’ laugh rumbled through the kitchen and Ron found himself grinning like a lunatic at the warm sound. And it _was_ warm, deep and rich. That hadn’t changed at all –Ron could remember the first few times he had had the man laugh and it sounded so alien. No, the only thing that had changed was the frequency that he was hearing the beautiful sound.

 

“So you’re telling me I can _not_ in fact have some of this now?” Severus called to him. “The honey has only made me salivate further, I’m afraid.”

“Do you want to be viciously ripped from my caring hands?” Ron turned on his heel and headed back to the kitchen. “Got to say, Severus, it’d really fuck up the holiday if you were because you were pissed when the Healers came to assess you.”

 

With an overdramatic huff, Severus stepped away from the hob and folded his arms across his chest.

 

“Fine, Weasley, fine.”

“After the meeting you can get as pissed as you like,” Ron offered. “Though considering that we have to face company tomorrow maybe not such a good idea?”

 

Severus’ face darkened and he suddenly remembered what he had just promised, to try and restrain his more dour reactions to the holiday. That didn’t mean, however, that he felt joyful about the fact they had been roped into going to Ron’s parents’ for Christmas Lunch.

 

“It’ll be fine,” Ron smirked at him. “I’m telling you. Just eat, talk, be polite and we’ll be out of there before Mum gets herself a bit merry and starts asking when the wedding is.”

“I want you to promise me that,” Severus muttered grumpily, looking longingly at a box of homemade mince pies Molly had sent.

“Too much fat in the pastry for you,” Ron declared. “And so what, if she starts, _I’ll_ deal with it. You don’t have to be so pessimistic about _everything_ , Severus. So what, she thinks we should get married –I’d _much_ rather have her banging on about that than I would her screaming about how we shouldn’t be together.”

 

Severus had to admit that Ron had a point, so he sighed in conceding manner and gave a curt nod.

  
“Trust me… Godric’s balls, when she didn’t want Bill to marry Fleur… you know, from our point of view, it was weird to watch, because he was Bill, y’know? Bill who could do no wrong; Bill the-sun-shines-out-of-my-arse Weasley. And he chose a girl she thought was all wrong for him. I don’t know how Fleur stood it really; Mum was really rude to her…”

 

“So what you are saying is that I should count my blessings that your mother appears to have accepted me with open arms?” Severus crooked an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” Ron laughed, nodding as he turned down the heat on the wine. “It could have been a hell of a lot worse… imagine the look that Percy gives us…”

 

“Like he is in the middle of a colonic irrigation?” Severus smirked.

“Yes, quite. Well, if Mum disapproved it’s like that, but with extra scowl. Bit like you really. Maybe that’s why she likes you.”

“Let us not embellish the truth,” Severus muttered sarcastically. “I doubt any of your family truly like me, Ron; they merely tolerate me because they see that I am good for you.”

 

“George likes you,” Ron turned to face him with a smile. “Especially after you fixed his itching powder formulation.”

“Something I hope I do not live to regret,” Severus laughed.

“He wouldn’t dare prank you, not when he’s got me to contend with.”

 

“You are working this afternoon, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I said I’d be in straight after the meeting with the Healers. I don’t want to but business is through the roof and he needs all hands on deck. I’d be shit brother if I bailed on him now.”  
“I was not suggesting that you should,” Severus put his hands on Ron’s shoulders and tugged him closer for a warm kiss.

 

Ron loved the taste of the infused wine on Severus’ lips, somehow it tasted better there than it had fresh and warm out of the pan. He ran his tongue over them gently.

“Mulled wine tastes good on you,” he murmured, burying his fingers deep into Severus’ hair.  
“I wish I could tell you that you were the first person to tell me that,” Severus winked at him.

 

Ron grinned at him. “Well I don’t begrudge you whoever it was. I should go and tidy up.”

 

He pulled away. “But, first, I think there’s something you should see.”

 

Ron reached for the button of his jeans and popped it open and lowered the zipper, and then he wiggled his hips slightly to shift the denims down. “I thought you might like them?”

 

Severus’ face was full of disbelief and smirk as his eyes took in bright, cheerful Father Christmas patterned boxer shorts.

 

“And I bought a pair for you too…” Ron looked up from beneath his fringe. “Just in case you felt like joining in the new tradition I’ve started… now, Severus, remember it’s rude not to wear gifts…”

 

***

Ron hovered nervously by the window, watching as the Senior Healers cast all sorts of diagnostics around Severus’ body as he lay on the sofa. Even the rats were nervously watching, plastered to the side of their cage.

 

“How are your sleeping patterns?” the Senior with the clipboard asked, watching the hazes their colleague cast.

 

Ron had to stop himself from answering for Severus and he put his hand over his mouth to avoid doing so. He no longer had to make decisions or provide explanations, because the man was perfectly well enough to speak them himself.

 

“Better, though I do still sleep for hours if there is no reason to wake up.”

“And you make yourself do so?” The Healer asked pointedly.

“Since you told him that it would be detrimental for me to do so, I am lucky if I get a minute beyond the alarm ringing,” Severus shot Ron a look which was neither dark nor angry, but ridden with utmost thanks.

 

_Well what does he expect? I’m not going to let him hurt himself. Stupid bugger, after all this time doesn’t think that I care…_

 

“What about your food intake?”

“Increasing by the week and I find that scents and tastes which overpowered me and rendered me invalid before are becoming available to me again. We are testing them steadily, one at a time, as you suggested.”

 

_Liar. If you beg me one more time to make you garlic bread I might go mad._

Ron leant against the wall and smirked into his hand.

 

“And what about bodily functions?”

“Normal,” Severus lowered his eyes.

 

“And, uh… what about sexually? Are you finding that your health is improving your… uh… nocturnal emissions or performance during intercourse or is it the same?”

 

There was a loud ripping snort as Ron lost control at the mention of ‘nocturnal emissions’ and he was already stumbling to the kitchen, sniggering behind his hand raising the other in apology.

 

“Excuse you,” Severus shouted over his shoulder whilst the flush burned his cheekbones. “Better than ever is the answer to your question, in the very simplest of terms.”

 

The Healer gave him a small smirk in reply and moved on down the clipboard.

 

“Well,” the Senior Healer straightened. “I’m impressed so far, Snape, really and truly. The state in which you were admitted, I really didn’t expect you to achieve this level of health in a year, let alone half a year.”

 

Severus looked at him, suddenly anxious. “So, does that mean I am cleared for monthly treatments?”

“Not quite,” the man looked down at him. “We still have to perform the in depth Aura Scan. You might like to ask Mr. Weasley to rejoin us if he has recovered his sensibilities?”

 

There was another loud laugh in the kitchen and Severus sighed. “Apologies, he brewed mulled wine this morning and I fear he may have inhaled too much alcohol.”

 

Another laugh and Ron forced himself back into the living room, hastily wiping his eyes on his fingers. “I’m here, and I’m perfectly recovered. Or I will be unless you do a complete strip physical and find his festive underwear.”

 

Severus picked up one of the scatter cushions and threw it hard at Ron’s stomach.

 

“Did you note anger on your clipboard?” Ron caught it and hugged it to his chest.

“Anger never left it,” the Healer winked at him and Severus huffed with indignation.

 

The Senior pointed his wand over Severus form. “Right, Aura Scan, here we go.”

 

Severus focussed his eyes on Ron’s face, seeing how the laughter froze and suddenly the redhead looked incredibly anxious, his knuckles turning white on the cushion he held. Their gazes met and Severus sent him what he hoped was a reassuring look.

 

But he didn’t need to, because Ron saw the coloured haze hovering over Severus and his face broke into a relieved grin.

 

“Well?” Severus asked expectantly, seeing the three broad grins which faced him.

“You’re a beautiful shade of murky shit green all over,” Ron swallowed hard.

“What, no red or black at all?” Severus’ eyes flew wide.

“Brown around the neck, on the bite,” the Senior highlighted it. “Which indicates that today is a good day, probably. I imagine if you woke up feeling a little rough it would revert to red. I doubt, considering that was the point of impact, it will ever heal properly.”

 

“Slight browning over here, too,” the Healer hovered over his left arm.

“Well, that’s obvious what that is,” Ron frowned and their eyes travelled him. “Dark Mark.”

“Ohh, of course!” The Senior looked round. “I’ve never seen an Aura Scan on a Marked one before…”

 

“So,” Severus was eager to drag the conversation away from the ugly dark tattoo on his arm. “Does this mean what I hope it means?”

 

“I’d say it does,” the Senior’s face blossomed into a smile and he jotted something down on his clipboard. “I’m bringing you down to one Aura cleanse a month, and we’ll see how you cope through January. We will decide on your other treatments, the therapy and counselling, then.”

 

“Yaaaaaay!” Ron gave a childish little cheer and bounced up and down a few times.

“Juvenile,” Severus sniffed and looked away, even though inside he felt like his stomach was doing exactly the same as Ron.

 

The healers cleared the scans and Severus got to his feet. He moved and looped one arm around Ron’s waist, giving him a small smile. “This means that you can no longer treat me like an invalid, I am officially not one.”

“Even still, you aren’t to push yourself, Snape, and we’ll know if you have. Keep the exercise low key and your magic the same. Don’t ruin all your hard work by going berserk in celebration.”

 

“I won’t let him,” Ron said imperiously and chucked the pillow back to the sofa so that he could shake the hands of the Healers. “Thank you both, I hope you have a very good Christmas and New Year.”

“You too,” they both smiled, shook Severus’ own hand, and then departed through the fire.

 

Ron turned to Severus expectantly with a smile that could have eclipsed the sun and threw his arms around his shoulders. Severus buried his own smile in Ron’s neck and kissed the skin beneath his lips, tightening his grip on the redhead.

“Thank you,” he muttered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Severus, even though it wasn’t as if I did it selflessly… it brought us closer together, so…”

 

Ron pulled back then and shot Severus another dazzling smile.

“There are two times when you look as close to divine as possible, Ron,” Severus murmured. “When you’re in the middle of orgasm, and when you smile at me like that.”

  
“I think those pants have done something to you,” Ron raised an eyebrow with a smirk. The clock chimed on the mantelpiece and he let out a groan. “Off to deal with the masses, then.”

 

Severus took Ron’s face in his hands and kissed him. “Come back to me.”

“You’ve not said that in a _long_ time,” Ron looked at him in surprise.

“Every man needs a parting phrase for his lover, don’t you think?”

“What’s mine?” Ron frowned, trying to think.

“You have several,” Severus kissed him. “Each as gut rotting as the next but there we are. You have to have some faults, after all.”

 

“Git,” Ron jabbed him in the gut. “Don’t drink all my wine, Snape; I’m looking forward to it after I’ve dealt with said masses.”

 

He kissed Severus warmly, snaking his fingers to cup the base of his skull, and then pulled away, beaming as he stepped towards the fireplace, and was gone.

 

Severus stood looking at the white painted structure with a slightly dazed look on his own face. The Christmas tree twinkled at him in the corner of his eye and he turned to it, taking in the decorations and the perfectly spaced lights, and then his puerile adaptations to the fairy.

 

The tree had been the only thing that Ron had put up, Severus didn’t know whether that was because it was all he had had time to do before he had woken up, or if because that was all he had planned, not wanting to push his miserable bastard of a lover too far.

 

 _For the first time on this day in years, I have no cause to be miserable._ The words entered Severus’ subconscious as he looked around the empty corners where ceiling met wall and he found himself thinking of the way Hogwarts had always been so sumptuously decorated on Albus’ instruction, and he had never felt the inclination to take any warmth or happiness from the beautiful adornments. He had been prevented from putting them up in his own year as Headmaster.

 

His Healer’s words were fresh in his mind about overdoing his magic, but Severus felt the compunction to do something for Ron, something more than he had already secretly planned for the day. Pulling out the wand he had been using since the Battle, he rubbed his thumb over the handle, wishing he had his original back. There had been nothing like his first wand, which he had loved from the second it had graced his fingers.

 

To get a new one, he was faced with Diagon Alley, a thought he previously had not been strong enough to contend with. He flicked his wand to clear the mantelpiece of the clutter Ron insisted on keeping there, old letters and the house keys.

 

 _He never did get to tidy up for the Healers…_ Severus shivered slightly thinking of the blow job he’d bargained out of Ron in exchange for agreeing to wear the underwear he had been presented with.

 

The Floo dinged then and he grinned broadly.

 

“Severus? It’s me!” George’s voice rang out to the room.

“Accept,” Severus walked forward and waited for the second youngest Weasley male to appear.

“Happy Christmas Eve Ear Murderer,” George said chirpily to him, brushing down the folds of his work robes, charmed festive red with little boughs of holly decorating the fabric.

 

“You look like walking wrapping paper,” Severus arched an eyebrow and ignored the new nickname.

“Fabulous, best compliment I’ve had all year,” George winked. “And what a wonderful way to praise the man who has run around doing your secret Christmas shopping.”

  
“So you got it then?”

“I said I would, you infuriating old bat,” George rolled his eyes. “Let me off the hearth and I might give it to you.”

 

Severus stepped back and waved a hand, but George’s eyes had caught the fairy.

 

“Oh, now that’s original… you’ve just given me a great idea for a range for next year,” his eyes twinkled as he turned round to Severus. “Joke fairies, it’d be great. Disguise ‘em as respectable fairies and the minute they hit the tree they are irremovable and of course, will be scantily clad… dominatrix fairy, naughty Healer fairy…”

“The depths of your mind must be superbly twisted, George,” Severus smirked at him.

“Just like yours, why we get on so well,” George made a face.

 

He rummaged in his pockets and dragged out a condensed bag which he then enlarged and handed it over to Severus. “I didn’t look. I figured you should check it and if it’s wrong I can go back and shout for you now rather than making Ron suspicious.”  
“You didn’t check in the shop?” Severus frowned.

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate me doing that,” he shrugged. “Private and stuff.”  


Severus gave him a smile for his consideration and took the bag in hand and pulled out the box. He flipped it open and inspected, smile widening as he realised how perfect it was. “Excellent. Thank you, George, for doing this,” he snapped the box shut and waved it.

“No problem,” George gave him an easy smile. “He deserves it.”

 

“How are things going working with him?” Severus asked, setting the bag down on the sofa.

“Great,” George grinned honestly. “I love having him around. He’s got that smile thing down which has witches buying anything he can throw at them. I think they’re glad he quit the Ministry just so they can come and ogle him in my shop. But that’s probably not what you want to hear.”

 

“As long as he’s not ogling back,” Severus gave him a wary look.

“You’re like a fucking guard dog, Severus,” George rolled his eyes again, “I am telling you now, I know my little brother and he is one hundred percent faithful to you.”  
“I was not questioning his integrity, you know that.”

 

George threw him a disparaging look and Severus suddenly liked the redhead a whole lot more for his honesty.

 

“I find it hard to trust, surely you can understand why?”

“Oh I understand alright,” George reached up and rubbed at the dark hole where his ear should have been. “But you have to understand that I’m protective of him too. And when someone faults him, I fault them.”

“Poor boy, surrounded by a pack of mountain lions,” Severus mused, looking down at the rug beneath his feet.

“I’m not sure he minds too much,” George laughed. “In fact I think he’s more at ease now than I’ve ever seen him before…”

 

They fell to companionable silence and Severus moved away to stroke Peaches’ belly through the bars of the cage.

 

“How come you’ve only got a tree?” George asked interestedly.

“I think that was all he felt brave enough to put up.”

“Not a Christmas man, then…”

“Not since I was around fifteen, no. But I intend to do some work when you’ve gone, make it a little more festive for him, as a surprise.”

 

“He loves paper chains,” George turned to Severus with a small smile. “When we were little he would sit and make them for hours with Ginny.”

“Anything else you can tell me?”

“He freezes up under mistletoe and he has a slightly irrational fear of holly after Fred shoved in him a bush one year and he spent Christmas Day horizontal as someone picked spikes out his arse.”

 

“I know he freezes up under mistletoe,” Severus smiled at the floor, remembering a year before in a darkened pub.

 

“I’ve got to get back,” George looked at his watch, “I’ve still got my own shopping to do.”

“Thank you, George, for doing this. I loathed having to ask.”

“I know you did,” he shrugged. “But you needed help and plus I know what Ron likes after twenty seven years of his whinging. He’ll love it as much as he loves you, Severus.”

 

With a warm nod and a smile, George departed through the fire and left Severus alone once more, still holding his wand, his eyes lingering over the bag containing the first present he had gifted for a long time. He would never admit in a million years that he was terrified of giving it.

 

***

Ron couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He’d come home through the fire, tired, undoubtedly grumpy, looking forward to his mulled wine and a long hot shower, but the second he had stepped off the hearth his mouth had fallen open in shock.

 

It was like an over-excited elf had thrown up over his living room. Paperchains crisscrossed the ceiling in red and gold, whilst a garland lay in place of the usual mess over the fireplace, made up of greenery, sporadic holly _–nature’s own torture device, urgh-_ and pine cones sprayed gold. The bottom of the rat cage, the part they could not reach, had been bordered with tinsel, as had the bookshelf.

 

And now, four hours later, stuffed with the delicious dinner Severus had made him and plied with plenty of mulled wine, Ron was stretched out on his back in front of the fire, completely naked, whilst Severus attempted to suck his soul out through his cock.

 

_Oh, Jesus… have another contender for the Best Christmas Eve Ever._

He reached down and threaded his fingers through the dark hair which kept sweeping across the skin of his hips and tormenting him. The lips slid back off his shaft and pressed a gentle kiss into the hair above it, then kissed over his tummy, up his abdomen and in a centre line through his nipples until Severus reached his mouth, which he captured roughly and thrust his tongue inside. Ron grabbed hold of his back and held him so that the sinful lips could not descend to torment him again.

 

“I ask again,” Ron whispered when his lips were released. “What on earth prompted all this, Severus?”

“You,” Severus muttered back, kissing down Ron’s neck.

 

“Just stop for a sec, okay?” Ron caught his face in his hands and held Severus still. “This morning you were moaning about a tree, and then I came home and found all this… I love it, don’t get me wrong but you… you hate Christmas.”

“But I love you,” Severus said pointedly in a low voice, lips curving into a smile.

 

Ron held his gaze for a moment before closing his eyes and letting his face break into a grin. “Oh, gods, thank you, Severus.”

 

“Now then, are you going to get up on your knees for me?”

“Nope, if you’re having me you’re having me here so I can experience rug burn for the first time,” Ron languidly stretched out his body, feeling the pull in his tired muscles. At least his feet no longer ached due to the talented massage they’d been on the receiving end of despite their veritable stench from running around for a whole afternoon like a madman. It was like someone had spiked Severus’ drink with the twins’ patented ‘Perfect Partner for a Day’ potion.

 

Severus summoned one of the scatter cushions from the sofa and let it fall next to Ron on the floor, taking his face between his hands and kissing him again. There was a slowness to the proceedings that was markedly different to their usual encounters and neither could say it was any less sweet for long kisses, gentle touches and soft moans.

 

 _In fact it’s rather fucking perfect…_ Ron smiled into Severus’ lips and wrapped his legs prematurely around the man’s waist, nudging his heels into his arse.

 

“You do have the most delectably long legs,” Severus commented with a smirk. “I fell asleep last Christmas night touching myself thinking about them…”

“What were they doing?” Ron asked, reaching out for his wine and taking a gulp. Some slopped down onto his chest and Severus immediately dove to lick it off.

“Don’t waste the precious wine,” he winked. “Well it was the first time I had been able to think of someone I had been with recently for years… it was rather… graphic and you were somewhat exposed…”

“Well you know how I like to be exposed,” Ron raised an eyebrow.  
“Those thoughts made even me blush,” Severus captured his lips again and nudged their noses together.

 

Ron closed his eyes as he felt a hand smooth over his sac and down onto his perineum, and then he was being manually stretched in slow, tender movements which made him gasp and groan, rolling his shoulders with pleasure and lifting his hips.

 

It was over too soon, but he lifted up again and was grateful for the pillow beneath his arse when Severus gently placed his hands on the underside of his thighs and pushed them up to his chest. Ron spread them and relaxed his entire body as Severus pushed into him, as gently as everything else before. Smooth hands ran up his torso and crept over his ribs, and then Severus’ mouth was on his neck, their upper bodies pressed together as he settled inside Ron’s body.

 

Ron was immediately hot from the fire only inches away from them, but he didn’t care. He threw his legs up around thin hips again as they began to cant back and forth, driving deeper within his body.

“Uunghfuck… how can this feel so good, as good as the other stuff?” he gasped to the ceiling and then Severus filled his mouth with tongue.

“Just because,” Severus muttered at him with a smile, and he reached beneath Ron’s head to cradle it in his hand, the other running down to settle on the redhead’s hip.

 

They fell into a rhythm of Severus thrusting and Ron rising to meet him, both of them were panting within the minute and Ron relished the feel of his cock rolling between two flat stomachs, aching for release. Severus loved the way the heat of it seemed to bypass his skin and seep straight into his bloodstream, feeding his soul.

 

They met in another kiss as the rhythm sped up and they moved as one body in the firelight, grunts and gasps kept quiet in the tone of their fuck.

 

_Fuck, hell no. This is what they call making love, I suppose…_

 

The hand left his hip and worked under his back properly encasing his body in Severus’ arms and he was kissed again, a little more hotly, and Ron smirked at the fact that Severus couldn’t control his more lustful urges for longer than a few minutes. The pace picked up further, slim hips snapping back and forth with grace and purpose.

 

Ron was completely caught and his mouth was not released for air, so he was forced to breathe heavily through his nose, sounding deliciously depraved as he felt the orgasm swirl in his cock.

 

Severus was in a similar state of entrapment, unable to release Ron from his arms or lips and his cock beginning to twinge in an uncontrollable manner as he drove deeper into the tight space.

 

“God… need to come…” Ron arched up once, lodging Severus deeper than before and pressing him heavily against his prostate. His eyes closed, light exploded against the dark wall and Ron threw his head back, moaning his climax and Severus’ name to the room. He became aware of Severus desperately whimpering through his final thrusts, and noticed that the arms which held him trembled as the pistoning hips finally came to a standstill.

 

Neither of them said anything but lay as they finished, letting the heat from the fire wash over them. Severus rested his head on Ron’s chest and placed a gentle kiss on one of his nipples. Ron managed to muster the energy to sink a hand into dark hair and massage the scalp beneath it.

 

_God, I remember the first time I did that… he was so much tenser then… I can feel the change…_

 

Ron had never admitted the book on head massage stashed safely beneath the bed to Severus, or the way he had bought it after his first return visit to Scotland. The man just thought he was supremely talented in the art. Ron wasn’t going to correct him.

 

“Happy Christmas Eve,” Severus murmured up to him, smiling at the nipple which made up his immediate view.

“It most certainly fucking is,” Ron’s voice was breathy with the intensity of the orgasm. “We should do that more often.”

“Mm, agreed,” Severus nodded, and then he hoisted himself up on his arms and got to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Ron pouted. “Come back to bed.”

“You’re on the floor,” Severus reminded him.

“Don’t care, come back,” Ron reached out his hands to him.

“I’ll be back, I just need some more wine,” Severus picked up his empty glass.

 

Ron didn’t bother to make a comment about a possible hangover. Severus was obviously happy and he didn’t want to ruin the mood by being overprotective.

 

_He’s nearly forty-eight. He can make his own mistakes._

 

Ron’s eyes fell on the Christmas tree and he smiled at the indecent fairy, then looked down the branches until he got to the bottom, which when he had left that morning had been devoid of any presents. But now there was a tiny box, wrapped up. He flew into a sitting position, ignoring the dizziness of his bloodrush and the way his ears gave a background whine of protest, and reached out for it. There was nothing on the box but it was wrapped up, and it was incredibly light. He set it back down and got to his feet, padding through the room the bedroom.

 

Seeing no point in getting dressed again he pulled on his old, somewhat baggy checked pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt which should have been binned years before, considering the amount of holes which littered the material. Then he stooped and pulled out the two presents he had beneath the bed. He wasn’t sure how either of them was going to be received, Severus certainly hadn’t _asked_ for anything.

 

He returned to the living room and set them down next to the tiny box. He noticed that one of his and the one of Severus’ were shaped the same. He frowned, but there was no way that they could be the same gift.

 

_Severus just wouldn’t have thought of it. And even if he thought of it, he certainly wouldn’t have acted on it._

He scooped up his wine glass and fell down on the sofa, tucking one leg up beneath him and letting the other trail on the floor. Severus came back then.

 

“Oh, and you couldn’t have told me the naked part of the evening was over?” he set his re-filled glass down on the coffee table and reached for his scattered clothes.

 

Ron watched as his favourite body in the world disappeared behind dark trousers and a nice shirt. Severus had dressed up for his surprise.

 

“You know me, any time is ‘jama time,” Ron shrugged and took a mouthful of wine.

“You do spend an inordinate amount of time in your nightwear, I’ll grant you,” Severus nodded, falling down next to him. “But your backside looks wonderful in it so I shall not shoot myself in the foot and complain.”

 

Ron laughed into the glass and looked at the tree. The fairy lights and the fire were the only sources of light in the room.

 

“So,” Severus turned to him. “You said you were worried about George last week, do you think he’ll need the sofa tonight?”

“No!” Ron said excitedly, turning to Severus to impart his gossip. “What with the Christmas explosion, dinner and the sex I forgot to say. George has a date tonight.”

 

Severus raised his eyebrows and bid Ron to go on silently.

  
“Well, when I worked for him last time, there was this girl working in Florean’s that he liked. It re-opened when he came back after the Battle, see. She’s sort of alternative,” Ron swallowed a mouthful. “Favours corsets, bright hair dye and purple nail varnish and has a huge dragon tattoo on her back.”

“Oh, your mother will love that,” Severus snorted.

“Anyway, her name’s Phoebe and he’s fancied her for _years_. She’s Florean’s niece and pretty much runs the joint for him nowadays. The other night we went in for our usual end-of-Monday-woe-is-us ice cream and he was still flirting horribly with her and she was flirting back and I got sick of it, so when we left I told him that if he didn’t ask her out himself, I would do it for him.”

 

“Pushy little whelp you are.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it? They’re going out tonight to see a Weird Sisters gig in one of the clubs near the Alley. He was as nervous as a schoolboy when I left him, but really excited too… he’s liked her for so long.”

 

“I hope it works out for him,” Severus’ eyes lingered under the Christmas tree, very grateful for George’s help. He noticed that his present had been joined by two others.

 

“Ron?” He asked, preparing to voice something he had spent all day considering.

“Yeah?”

“When is the quietest time to go shopping in the Alley?”

“Well, the weekend is never quiet, but if you’re talking about weekdays the mid-week early mornings are always dead, why?”

“I… would like to pay the wandmaker’s a visit,” Severus said quietly. “I think it is time that I had one specifically suited to me again.”

 

Ron nearly slopped his wine over his chest but he smiled at Severus and gave a nod. “Sure. Would you like me to come with you?”

“I would not go without you…”

 

Thrilled with Severus’ jump to try and rejoin the magical world, even with something as tiny as having his own wand again, Ron wondered how the night could get any better.

 

“I will disguise myself,” Severus turned to him. “But I… well. I cannot hide forever. I will not parade myself under the nose of the general public, but I think I am ready for more than the walls of this flat.”

“Well, okay, how about we start by getting your wand and having lunch somewhere together in the New Year, then?” Ron said thoughtfully, cataloguing the places that they could go.

 

Severus smiled at him, and then he turned round to look at the tree. “We will not get much time together tomorrow, will we?”

“Well, I’m not staying at Mum and Dad’s all day,” Ron snorted.

“Yes we are,” Severus said quietly. “They are your family. You told me yourself that you always spend Christmas with them, and I will not allow you to change your traditions for me, Ron.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re committing to,” Ron raised an amused eyebrow. “My Dad always rolls out the decent whiskey with the turkey sandwiches but that’s the only fun part once dinner’s finished. Though watching my Mum trying to butter bread pissed is always a laugh.”

“I am sure I will find some way to amuse myself,” Severus assured him. “Your brothers will be there, won’t they?” He flushed at how perverted that had sounded, but Ron just laughed.

“Yep, full house this year, plus Harry, Teddy and ‘Dromeda, mum’s beside herself. She’s probably buried under a mountain of spuds as we speak.”

 

“I hope she peels them better than you, potato assassin,” Severus smirked, and then he cleared his throat. “I was just thinking… maybe it would be better if I gave you my present tonight?”

 

Ron sat forward at the chair and looked beneath the tree. “I’m always up for getting presents early, Severus…”

 

Rolling his eyes Severus got to his feet and collected the parcels beneath the tree and returned to the sofa. He handed Ron the small box and hoped his face didn’t look too terrified.

  
“Severus, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Ron chided him gently, setting down his drink on the coffee table. “And, more to the point, how _did_ you get this?”

“I had an accomplice,” Severus winked at him.

 

Ron had a niggling thought in his mind but he chased it away. “You open this one first. I don’t know if you want it, and it’s… I understand if you don’t, but you…”

 

Severus worked his way into the wrapping paper and revealed the book to the room. He looked down at the cover and found himself looking down at a brand new copy of the yearly updated Potions encyclopaedia.

 

“I know that you… I know that you loved the Dark Arts, too, but most of the books have been removed from public sale,” Ron explained. “And it doesn’t do for war heroes like me to go digging around the second hand bookshops of Knockturn. There have been some huge advances since the war, especially in Wolfsbane which is such a kick in the gut remembering Remus… but that’s the way life goes, I guess.”

 

Severus gave him a sad little smile and opened the new book, waiting for the crack of the spine which he just loved. He could smell the new leather and it took him back to an academic setting he had been missing for years. And even though Potions would never have been his first choice to teach despite his praised skill in the subject area, he had always been passionate about it.

 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “That was extremely thoughtful of you.”

“There’s nothing in it which is going to give anything away, I promise,” Ron’s eyes lingered over the bookshelf containing _Hogwarts: A History_. “Strictly potions.”

 

Severus reached forward and set the book down on the table. He relished the thought of having something to read other than the muggle books on Ron’s shelf.

 

“So,” Ron looked at the near-on identical boxes remaining in their laps. “Severus, have you kind of noticed how these look a bit… similar?”

Severus looked between their sets of thighs and had to concede that they did. “Well… I…”

“Who was your accomplice?” Ron asked suddenly.

“George,” Severus looked at him.

 

_That crafty sod!!!_

“Open them together,” Ron ruled and reached for the wrapping paper.

 

The only sounds were of tearing paper and Severus frowned at the box which appeared, identical to the one he had wrapped earlier in the day.

 

He looked at Ron, stilling his fingers. “Ron, if this is what I think it is…”

“What?” Ron’s voice was heightened and slightly strangled. “Don’t you…”

 

Severus leant over and gave him a kiss. “Open yours first.”

 

Ron did. Nestled in a deep black velvet cushion was a plain titanium band, with letters inscribed on the smooth inside. He plucked the ring out and raised it to the light to read the inscription which he recognised as their initials in scrolling font bookended by the ornate symbol which indicated a special type bonding to represent the union of souls.

 

“Bloody George!” he gasped.

Ron grinned broadly at the ring and reached for the box Severus held, and opened the lid for him. Exactly the same ring nestled on exactly the same velvet and it also held exactly the same inscription.

 

“Bloody George!” Severus swallowed and pulled the ring out with shaking fingers.

“For your middle one,” Ron reached out and tapped it. “So it’s not obviously… what it is.”

 

“Did you know that I was…” he looked at the ring in Ron’s fingers.  
“No idea, he said absolutely nothing… but he helped me decide that if I couldn’t choose the words to inscribe then I probably said it best saying nothing at all.”

“He did the same for yours,” Severus breathed. “But I had absolutely no idea he was feeding you the same…”

 

“Do you… do you want it, Severus?”

 

Severus fixed him with a hard gaze. “Don’t turn dim on me now Weasley; you have done so well for a year…”

“Want me to stick it on then?” Ron asked sheepishly.

 

Severus handed him the ring and presented him with his right hand. “I want it on that one. Don’t want the metal tainted with the rubbish on this arm.” He tucked the arm with his Mark behind his back.

 

Ron slid the ring into place, noticing it was a little big. But, fully appreciating the magical world as he so often did, the ring suddenly let out a crackle of blue sparks and shrunk to a perfect fit.

 

“My turn,” Severus had the ring off Ron faster than he could protest. And then he raised the hand to his lips, kissed the manly, scarred, roughened knuckles and slid the ring into place.

 

“Well. That’s going to give Mum something to comment on,” Ron’s face dazzled once more and he leapt to his feet. Severus followed him up.

 

They looked at one another for a second before they were caught up in a tight embrace. There was nothing soft about it, Severus’ knuckles were bleached white with the hard grip he held on Ron’s shoulder blades. They weren’t even kissing; they had their faces buried in raven and auburn hair respectively.

 

“Your ribs hurt?” Ron asked in a tight voice five minutes later.

“Excruciatingly,” Severus gasped and they broke apart, though Ron grabbed hold of Severus’ hands.

 

“Thank you,” Severus said quietly, lowering his eyes to the floor. “This whole year has been…”

 

He trailed off when Ron put his hand over his mouth. “Nope. Nothing, Severus. Thank you is enough. You don’t have to embarrass yourself with big words. I know, alright?”

 

Severus wondered when the redhead had come to know him so well, how he had known what it would cost him to say the words he’d been going to aloud.

 

“Wine?” Ron pulled away to go for more, but Severus only released one of his hands and he was forced to come back in, in somewhat of a dance.

 

“Hmmmm,” Ron hooked one hand around Severus’ waist and lifted their joined hands out to the side. “That reminded me of those fucking dance lessons.”

 

Severus gave a derisive snort. “I don’t dance, Weasley.”  
“Don’t or can’t?” Ron challenged, knowing if he turned it into a competition Severus would not be able to refuse.

“Don’t, I can dance perfectly… in my day Hogwarts had plenty of formal balls that were compulsory attendance.”

“Really?” Ron asked, distracting the older man with conversation as he worked them masterfully into a gentle sway.

 

“Yes, they stopped around Charlie’s time, if I remember rightly… too many students ill from spiked punch and weed in the cakes the morning after.”

“Hmm, I shall have to ask brother dearest about that tomorrow,” Ron smirked with narrowed eyes. “Sounds like something he would have enjoyed.”

“Your brother smokes?”

“Charlie does a hell of a lot of things he doesn’t tell Mum and Dad, why do you think he moved so bloody far away?” Ron laughed. “Not dangerous amounts. Just enough for a buzz.”

“Well, it had been happening for years, but his generation were stupid enough to get caught.”

“What are you implying, Severus Snape? That you may have partaken in dodgy baked goods? Rebel!” Ron looked at him with mock indignation as he leant him slightly backwards.

“Why am I the woman here?” Severus looked up at him with glittering eyes, abruptly changing the subject.

“Longer hair, you’re the woman,” Ron grinned down at him and then flipped the thin man back up.

“Your dance instructor was right, you are very good,” Severus conceded.

“Not so bad yourself sir, your upper frame needs a little work though.”

 

“Did you _seriously_ just tell me that, Weasley?”

Ron laughed. “No.”

“You haven’t even had the courtesy to put any music on.”

“We’re too good for music,” Ron broke out of the formal hold and locked his arms around Severus’ neck.

“You young creatures and your odd ways,” Severus sighed.

“I’m not exactly young, Severus, twenty-eight in March,” Ron made a face.

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one.” Severus kissed his forehead. “Does it not bother you that with each passing day I inch closer to fifty?”

“Hell no,” Ron frowned. “I’m planning the mother of all parties, just so you know.”

“Absolutely not,” Severus glared.  
“There’ll be wine,” Ron cajoled.

“How much wine?”

“Enough to get you so trashed you won’t remember you’re at a party.”

“Whatever happened to growing old gracefully, I wonder?”

 

“No chance with us lot around,” Ron jerked his head at the photoframe shelf. “For Dad’s fiftieth we took him to a Crazy Golf course and ended up in the pub. My dad can handle tequila shots better than me, that’s shameful.”

“I bet _he_ didn’t kiss Harry bloody Potter,” Severus smirked.

“And for Mum’s,” Ron ignored him with a little rhythmic wiggle of his hips, “We all went on holiday to Spain for a week and got very, very drunk on Sangria which helped with the fact half of us got serious sunstroke.”

 

“All this was after the war?” Severus smiled.

“Yeah, well, like we could have afforded it beforehand,” Ron snorted. “So yeah… big birthdays are celebrated in our house. George’s thirtieth next year and he’ll want to celebrate like Fred would have done… which means a lot of booze, indoor fireworks and pranks everywhere… and you’re now a part of this family, and you won’t escape, y’hear me?”

 

Severus groaned. “I heard you but I was too distracted by your blasted hip action.”  
“Oh yeah, my dance instructor complimented my hip action a hell of a lot.”

“What dance did you learn for the wedding?”

“Boring waltz. I never saw the point, just for show. A first dance should be between the two of you, wrapped so tight around one another it’s almost indecent, to a song which is yours.”

“Rather like this, you mean?” Severus whispered.

“We don’t have a song,” Ron pointed out.

“Well maybe just like with everything else, we don’t need the words.”

 

“Going to be a bloody quiet life if we never need words,” Ron commented after a moment of silence.  


“You are maddening,” Severus growled.

“You told me that almost a year ago exactly and you’re still around,” Ron slipped a hand down to grab a palmful of arse.

 

“I suppose,” Severus drawled in his ear. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Oh, Severus, of _course_ I’ll plough you into the next year,” Ron smirked.

 

“We’ll come back to that part later, but no… I…” Severus took a deep breath. “I need to come to terms with certain things still. Will you read something to me, if I ask you?”

“Like what?” Ron frowned and pulled back.

 

“What is the one book in your case that I have not touched since I moved in?” Severus gestured at the lined shelves.

 

Ron swallowed and his eyes fell over the copy of _Hogwarts: A History._

 

“Are you sure?” he whispered in shock, fingering the ring on his hand.

 

“No,” Severus answered quietly. “But I’ll be damned if I let that book beat me, Ron.”

 

Despite his words, Ron could see the fear in Severus’ eyes.

 

“I’ll do it, Severus,” he reached for his hand. “On one condition.”

 

Severus arched one eyebrow in question.

 

“Lay under the tree with me and look at the lights for a bit? It’s fake, there aren’t any squirrels…”

 

There was a curt nod, and a smile; Severus turned away, his hair swishing as he moved, and Ron was drenched in a waft of jasmine in a room full of Christmas. He fingered the ring on his hand once more, smiled his own smile, and moved forward to while away the remaining minutes of Christmas Eve beneath their tree.

 

_-fin-_


End file.
